Soulbound
by Echo Dancer
Summary: Warren has a chance for a miracle and he takes it. On an amazing ship with a woman who claims to be of a race most believe extinct, a brash Human teen and a female alien with a secret, Warren searches for what he believed was impossible. Book 4 of series
1. Introduction

"**Soulbound" Introduction and Background (revised 11/10)**

_Welcome to _Soulbound_, the fourth book in the ongoing adventures of Warren Worthington III, aka Archangel! _

Soulbound_ takes Warren on a new journey in search of something he believed was impossible to obtain. It picks up immediately after _Circle Complete_ ends and continues many of the unfinished story lines from the preceding books. Familiar characters return – Emperor Ztar, General Gtar-Cro, the Etagllot, and others, but we also have new friends to meet, as well as new foes._

_If you haven't read the previous three novels, _Sacrifice_ (part one), _Esserru _(part two, but actually an if quel), and _Circle Complete_, I encourage you to do so. That background will greatly assist in understanding fully some of the underlying storylines in _Soulbound_. _

_Should you choose to read this story without perusing the previous books, feel free to email me questions for clarification of background issues – I always happily welcome hearing from readers. _

**Warning: **_**While**_** Soulbound**_** is NOT slash, it does refer to the previous male/male relationship between Warren and Emperor Ztar. Warren has always been straight both in mainstream Marvel-verse and my books. **_

Also know: _The Archangel of my stories is pre-X-Force. In comic-land, he can now transform between Archangel and Death. My stories take place in the Marvel-verse past where Warren cannot manifest his darker side and is in his original form having moved past the blue skin/steel wings phase. However, I have taken liberties with the character in that he conjures a rather delightful energy that added some…shall we say, intensity to his love life in the earlier books. We learn more on his ability in this book._

_(FYI for those who may not know – Warren was infected with nannites by the evil mutant called Apocalypse. They transformed Warren into a twisted version of himself called Death (one of the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse), complete with blue skin, bio-steel wings, and deadly intentions. Nasty business all around. Thankfully, he later reverted to his true form, but it took a long time and the experience left him wounded to his soul.)_

_Brief summation of the three previous books: _

_In _Sacrifice_, alien Emperor Ztar, ruler of the Turzent Empire, forced Archangel into his service using Earth's freedom as the ax above Warren's head to ensure total submission to the Emperor's will. In _Esserru_, Warren's life with the Emperor continued to evolve. A horrific event became a turning point between him and Ztar, which culminated in a decision Warren never believed he'd make. When _Circle Complete_ began, it was five months after _Esserru_ ends and Warren had been Ztar's companion for five-plus Earth years. Warren faced new threats and revelations as to the mysterious energy he manifested. It is a story of healing from injuries to the soul in both men and Warren reaching a goal he dreamed of for five years._

_Disclaimer: _

_I don't own Archangel or any X-man character, but rather borrowing them for a while for personal enjoyment. I do own all the other various characters and my version of our galaxy. I make no money from this story and never will._

_Thank you in advance for partaking in my make-believe world for it's in the sharing the characters truly come alive._

_Echo Dancer_

"_When you write from the soul, the pen moves itself."_


	2. Chapter 1

_**Soulbound**_

I don't own the X-men or any of Marvel's characters. Everything else is mine.

A/N: A few preliminaries before we jump into the story. First and foremost, I'm so excited about _finally_ being ready to post. Of the four books, this one has presented the greatest challenge, mostly because the longer the saga continues, the more details I must keep track of – like plotlines, subplots, character bios, timelines, imperial planets, species characteristics, etc. You should see the background files I've created just to keep track of everything. Perhaps if I contradicted myself here and there, many readers wouldn't notice…but I would. Probably that obsessive side of me!

Keep in mind:

* Words that appear as / _thus_ / are telepathic communication. (A suggestion from a wonderful reader.)

* Most sentences that appear in 'single quote marks' are thoughts.

Those of you who read my previous books know that my chapters are typically very long. This time, I decided that some will be longish, but others will be quite short (at least for me). I'm hoping the smaller doses will help ease the chapter time commitments for you, my stalwart readers (gods and goddesses that you are), yet not break the story up excessively.

Be warned – _Soulbounds_ is the lengthiest story yet, so you're in for a long-term commitment if you take the plunge. I'm hoping to post frequently enough to not drag this out forever. The timing will ultimately depend on how the very last editing goes with each segment as I do that just prior to uploading and how much real life interferes with that task.

One final note. For some reason I struggled with a name for this book since the first words hit the computer screen. Why? I have no idea. But a couple of my wonderful supporters who stayed in touch between books assured me the name would come (thank you, O Wise Ones – you know who you are). Now that it did, the title seems so obvious. I think I was trying to be too clever or too intriguing or something. Sometimes the KISS rule rules!

Whew! With all that said, let's get to Warren's next adventure.

**Chapter 1**

His target was airborne. Sensors revealed no watchful ships or shuttles, no imperial guards, no powerful mutant protectors, not even a single, feeble Human sentry. Was he that careless or did he still not fully comprehend his value? Possible. Probable. Overconfidence in the Empire's ability to protect him was likely as well. Foolish.

The reacquisition order was overdue in his opinion; the target would have been relatively easy pickings for months. Why his superiors hesitated so long was puzzling, but it was not his place to question. Days of stealthy observation were over. Yet while the target was almost offering himself, time was not a friend. Another pursuer was closing in. An old acquaintance, so to speak. Things could get interesting…

###

Warren soared toward the heavens on a strong updraft, that thrilling leaving-the-stomach-behind sensation tickling his insides. 'God, I love days like this!' The waxing warmth of the spring sun across his back and wings contrasted the coolness of the winds as the last vestiges of winter clung on. Feeling wild and free amongst the snowcapped peaks, he pumped his wings to increase the acceleration in joyful enthusiasm.

He'd spent only two days at his Long Island estate after returning from Sat'rey before deciding on a whim to treat himself to time at his mountain aerie. The Etagllot trial was over; sentences likely carried out already in swift imperial style. Many of those involved in the Ymoz incident paid the ultimate price for kidnapping him and the Empire's leader, yet the masterminds behind the crime were still at large, and all concerned assumed Warren remained an Etagllot acquisition target. Ztar and Gtar-Cro warned him the illicit organization does not give up easily.

Worries over the Etagllot weren't what prompted Warren to seek solitude in the Rocky Mountains. A revelation had. Realization that Ztar had been the road to his own inner healing had hit with a clarity and certainty that eluded him the past year. The resultant paradigm shift was causing a reassessment in how he had labeled and integrated the six years spent under Ztar's control into the overall chronicle of his life. Warren wanted a few days to mull it over where his soul felt most at peace.

With powerful strokes, he rose ever higher. Wind tearing past him, the world falling quickly away, shuffled and examined recent comprehensions from a new, freer perspective. He reflected back on what he'd concluded just two days prior – Ztar and he had been brought together for a purpose and they had ultimately healed each other. Unknowingly. Unintentionally. What had been begun as a horrifying experience for Warren, ended with two repaired souls.

He let an updraft catch him. Wings stretched to their full 16-foot span to grab as much crisp air as possible, he rode it up. Underside pressure of the wind sent a wave of sensual delight from wing tip to base, reminiscent of a lover's caress. Eyes closed, he let the wind take him where it may as he gave himself to the blue firmament.

His mind drifted to a less positive realization – comprehension that he had been "the other man" for a few hours. Warren and Ztar had allowed themselves a romp in the hay during his Sat'rey visit. In retrospect, it was puzzling that although Ztar clearly loved Jharda, he and the Emperor had sex as if they had never been apart. Warren hadn't asked any questions at the time. Perhaps he should have. He was party to Ztar's cheating on Jharda and as guilty as the Turzent. That bothered him. Opening his eyes, he dipped slightly to the left to spiral high above a mountain meadow.

On the other hand, Turzent morals in the area of sex and monogamy, particularly those applied to their crowned heads, were quite different from what is typical on Earth. Monogamy was not expected of emperors or empresses. Historically, imperial life partners and companions lived side by side, fully aware of each other. Extramarital companions were accepted as part of royal life. Was that the case with Jharda and Ztar? Did Jharda know of his and Ztar's tryst and accepting of it? Warren hoped so. The idea that Ztar would deceive the woman who in all likelihood was destined to become empress was disturbing. But that was between Ztar and Jharda and Warren decided to maintain perspective on the accompanying guilt. 'Do better if there's a next meeting by leaving before anything happens,' he told himself.

Awareness came that he'd been circling that same place for some time and brought himself to a hover. 'Going in circles, Worthington?' That metaphor summed up how he felt about another issue dredged up by the Sat'rey tryst – his love life. Love 'em and lose 'em. He had been caught in that vicious cycle, repeating the same scenario time after time. The names and details changed, but not the outcome. Find someone to love. Fall head over heels. Something's missing on someone's part or circumstances drives in a wedge. Then either his lover dies or leaves. 'God, what's wrong with me?' The lyrics to an old song suddenly popped into his head. Are you "looking for love in all the wrong places" War old boy?

The past year had been difficult in another respect, as well. Sex with Ztar had been an almost nightly occurrence that was simply…incredible. Ztar was amazing in bed – no one Warren had ever been intimate with came close to the man's skill as a lover. It mattered not that Warren was straight and Ztar was male. His mind and body had burned with a lust and sexual euphoria he didn't know existed before the Turzent. 'You miss the sex, plain and simple,' he admitted. The first couple of days on the return trip to Earth, he'd been fine, but as the days played out, some deep part of him longed strongly for Ztar. Or perhaps more accurately, for what Ztar could do in bed.

He broke his hover and headed higher to cool down the sudden rise in body heat at the mere thought of the physical delights Ztar could bestow. He'd taken two women to his bed over the last many months in an attempt to recreate what he and Ztar had. All he came away with was frustration. They paled next to the Turzent. Multiple reasons why. Both women looked to him to fulfill their sexual need where Ztar had focused on pleasuring Warren much of the time. Add the lack of empathic ability, that they didn't know his body, and that they weren't sure what to do with the wings. Plus, he had no real emotional connection with the women. Two dismal failures. With apologies all around, he broke it off with both quickly and cleanly.

'Sexually frustrated. That's me,' Warren summed up. 'Damn you, Ztar!' he riled, but little anger accompanied the curse. 'You've ruined me for _every_one that follows,' he lamented in a variant of the long-ago voiced sentiment. It seemed like such an innocent statement when he'd said it originally to Ztar. Instead, it had been prophetic. Then his concern switched to Ztar. The Turzent repeated the same sentiment to Warren a year ago during their last night together on Sat'rey. And there was Ztar's casual prediction made that same night – "You'll never find another lover who can make you burn as I do." That was also proving true. Would Warren always be left wanting in bed? 'Is Ztar feeling the same? Is that what our little romp was all about?'

Having reached a height where the air was bitterly cold, Warren began a leisurely, spiraling descent. The sun was warm on his feathers even in the high altitude. He wanted it to sink in, slide its warmth down between his feathers to the sensitive membrane beneath. Just as Ztar had slid his skilled fingers through the wings, creating sexual delight from wing tips to groin and all points between. His body instantly ignited in remembered bliss. 'O-o-oh, god!' He moaned with the arousal. Spasms of need rippled through his body forcing Warren to pull up short and hover until he could calm himself.

The ache went deep, so much more than from simple, unmet physical desire. His very soul seemed to reach out for what was no longer there – Ztar. "One night in his bed and look at you!" he cried out, the words whipped away in the mountain winds. 'Thought you'd gotten over him, didn't you? Me thinks you're addicted to Ztar-sex,' he chided sarcastically. 'It's gone. The source has dried up. Get over it!'

Breathing in and out, calming his body and his mind, the ache eased. 'Don't become what Ztar had, Worthington, looking for something you had but lost.' A new appreciation set in for what Ztar had gone through after his genetic augmentation by the mercenary Etagllot scientists. The Emperor had gradually turned into a hungry, sadistic bedmate in part because of unmet sexual need and it took Ztar years to overcome the darkness that had corrupted his soul.

'You don't want to go there, Worthington,' he confirmed to himself. 'Take your own advice – learn to find pleasure and fulfillment in bed another way.' He shook his head. 'Right, easier said than done.' Then he took off like a dart and started an exercise routine to give the remnants of arousal an outlet. 'Gives me a whole new admiration for what Ztar endured and overcame.'

Tight loops, quick course changes, and dodging imaginary weapons fire worked wonders to ease the mental and physical tension. As he relaxed and slowed his frantic pace, he looked to heavens. 'Is there someone out there for me? Will I ever find her?' He wanted to settle down. Wanted someone in his life that made him complete. Someone who would light a fiery passion in him. A woman to love until the end of his days. 'Too much to ask?'

He caught a gentle updraft and rode it, relishing the caress of the wind over his body. Then movement caught his attention. Another flyer a couple miles in the distance, clearly discernable to his incredible vision. Even with his sharp eyes, it was impossible to tell whether male or female, but definitely winged. Who was it? Several possibilities came to mind, but the list narrowed dramatically when he noted the wings appeared to be brilliant white. "Now who could that be?" he asked the puffy clouds as he propelled himself cautiously toward the other wind rider.

###

Ettwanae flew toward the one she had sought for so long. Could it be? Was she finally going to meet another of her kind? Everything about his bio-sig said that was the case according to Volu. Her heart pounded as she streaked forward.

An odd sensation began to grow deep within her. Not truly physical – not mental. Was this was what Volu had told her about when her kind approach one another? With each wing beat, she felt more certain it was. The distant figure seemed to be drawing her in – pulling her through the sky. Her heart raced even more in anticipation. "If the feeling is exceptionally strong, you have found your soulbound – the one you are meant to be with," her friend and teacher had explained. "If it is indeed your soulbound, there will be other signs as well."

"What are those signs?" she'd asked.

"You will know – they will be unmistakable," Volu had answered cryptically.

Wind tearing past her, Ettwanae pushed herself, so afraid that something would once again come between her and her goal. 'Please, goddess, let this finally be,' she prayed. The pull intensified, becoming a vibration within her.

###

As they drew nearer, details came into focus. Warren admired the flowing golden hair, the lithe form, and the obviously female contours. Distance closed until facial features were discernable. 'My god, she's…_gorgeous_!' he marveled.

The distance was rapidly narrowing. Strange sensations stirred deep inside Warren in a place he couldn't identify and in a way he couldn't quite define – almost a pulling. Concern nudged.

As the strange feeling grew steadily stronger, his apprehension intensified. Warren stopped to hover as they came within a hundred feet of each other. The female flyer did likewise. He scanned around them – you never know when something might be a trap. The strange tug was too strong, too unexplainable. Was the woman a telepath and exerting mild control over him?

###

Ettwanae observed him as he hung in the sky. 'Goddess, he's beautiful!' How long she'd waited to look upon someone like herself. But he was hesitant. 'To be expected,' she told herself. 'We are strangers.' They were close enough to hear each other above the sound of the wind and beating wings. "I mean you no harm. I've been searching for you!" she called loudly, trying to ignore the insistent tug that continued to strengthen despite holding their positions.

The woman was speaking Turzent – the official language of Ztar's empire, which Warren spoke fluently. Wariness immediately overrode the sharp urges prodding from inside. "Why?" he demanded in Turzent. 'Who is this woman and what does she want? And most puzzling of all, how is it she looks so much like me – an image inducer?'

Her long, golden hair whipped in the turbulence created by her beating wings. She snared the wild locks with one hand to keep them from her face. "We are of the same kind. Please, let me come closer," she called out her request.

The strange attraction felt so-o-o right, which increased his apprehension. "What is _your_ kind?" Did she think him so gullible? 'Some sort of trap. Etagllot?' he thought with trepidation.

Ettwanae heard the emphasis. Did he not recognize they were the same? Did he not feel the pull? "I am Eshaaru, as are you."

Eshaaru? Esserru! 'Bullshit.' He'd been down this path before. "You are mistaken. I am Human."

Human? Why did he deny his heritage? Was it the same reasons she concealed hers? Yet he obviously felt no need to disguise his appearance, even when he had appeared in public at the trial on Sat'rey. "Please, may I come closer so we can talk more easily?" she pleaded, fearing he might dart away. She watched and prayed as he considered. Then he changed his aerial position and flew forward and her heart leapt.

Warren halted when a few yards from the woman, watching her every movement for signs of foul play. At least they no longer had to yell. Without warning, the pull magnified multifold to nearly overwhelm him and he swayed in the air. 'My god, what is she doing to me?' He thought to move away, yet did not. "Whatever game you're playing, stop immediately or I'll take you out!" he demanded hotly.

Ettwanae was confused at first as to what he thought she was doing, but then it clicked. He _was_ experiencing the same tug and her heart rate escalated with barely contained elation. "It's nothing I'm doing – not intentionally. I think you're feeling the pull of kind when we near each other – like a homing signal."

The sensation was escalating rapidly and from what Volu had taught her, it meant this male was likely her soulbound. Warmth began spreading through her nether regions, and lustful yearnings filled her. Another sign that the man before her was to be her life mate?

Raw lust slammed into Warren from out of nowhere. His body went from zero to ninety so fast he nearly forgot to beat his wings. 'Jesus Christ! What's _happening_?' He wanted to race headlong to the woman and have sex right there in the air. She was definitely exerting some form of control. "What are you _doing_ to me?" he yelled. "Stop now!" Alarm rose, yet he could not bring himself to move away; the inability causing apprehension to escalate further.

Carnal urges ratcheted up. Mating instincts kicked in full throttle and she shuddered. "I can't – it's nothing I'm trying to do. P-please believe me! We- we belong together – that's all. We're soulbounds!" she managed to stammer out, instantly knowing it was a mistake. 'Oh, goddess! It's happening too fast! I'm frightening him. Need more time.'

"Soul _what_?" He shook his head against the driving demand to close the gap between them. It was nearly impossible to resist and clear thinking was becoming a struggle. "Lady, you're crazy! I'm leaving." As determined as he was, he hung there – pinned in place to the sky by the unseen force.

Ettwanae desperately wanted to fly to him. Every cell in her body screamed to take him into her. "P-Please don't go. I've waited my w-whole life to find another like me. Stay…_please_. I'll do anything!" Waves of lust crashed through her and she clenched her fists, nails biting into flesh, the pain helping her determination, but her strength to resist was quickly waning.

Hormones raced through his body – lucid thought was slipping away. He wanted her as he'd wanted no one else his entire life. It was primal and undeniable. Yet the line she was feeding him was ludicrous. 'Eshaaru? Soulbounds? Bull!' He shook with effort to maintain control. "Back off _now_!"

She hesitated, unsure if she had the strength to move away. Then coherent thought fractured and fell away in jagged shards. Instincts as old as time took over and in a single downbeat, Ettwanae propelled forward.

Warren saw her coming and momentarily considered moving, but thought didn't translate into action. His body and mind froze. When the female reached him, it was like a silent energy explosion. 'Join!' the energy commanded as it rolled through him. It was blinding. All remaining cognitive reasoning vaporized. There was only the female and the need.

As he took her mouth in a savage kiss, shockwaves pounded through her. Ettwanae gasped into the warmth of his mouth and then groaned as flames of sexual craving raged within her. She pushed further into his mouth and dropped herself vertical and he did likewise. Their legs entwined, pulling them tightly together, grinding their loins against one another, and they hung in the air.

Warren couldn't catch his breath as he probed deep, twirling their tongues. Deeper, farther he pushed into the warm moistness, but he couldn't get deep enough. He wanted to consume her, be in her, of her. Her taste was sweet and fiery. He wanted to feel every inch of her trembling body; wanted his hands everywhere at once. He was burning alive and it was glorious. More. He had to have more!

He tried to break from the kiss; she not wanting him to, refused to release his mouth. Finally tearing away, he bit her lip, kissed her chin, nipped her neck, squeezing her even tighter to him, pressing her breasts his chest. His hands found the wing bases and moved to those points where flesh meets feather and densely packed nerves come together to create one hell of an erogenous zone. He tantalized those spots with his fingers, one hand at each beating wing. Feathery softness. Beneath, powerful muscles worked. The contrast was erotic.

Ettwanae threw her head back and moaned loudly in bliss as he did something amazing at the base of her wings. She was over the edge and tumbling into the erotic unknown. No longer able maintain a beating motion, the wings spread wide of their own volition and held their span. She squeezed down on his legs with hers, trying desperately to position his shaft where it had to go. The throbbing need for him to be inside her was almost painful. "Goddess!" she cried aloud in lustful ecstasy.

Her head arched back, exposing a graceful neck. Glowing golden hair danced wildly. Wings spread to their full glory, the white feathers nearly blinding against the blue sky under the intense mountain sun. Her slender, lithe body writhing from bliss in his arms. He took it all in. She was magnificence and wonder and he wanted her to the depths of his soul.

Ettwanae pulled her head forward and looked into the incredible blue eyes – it was like looking into her own. She was meant to stare deep into that blueness. He was part of her. She part of him. They were one. His majestic wings beat in rhythm with the thrumming of her body. She wanted to be taken – wildly and with abandon.

Allowing him to hold them in the air, she took his mouth in another ravaging kiss. Grabbing a handful of cloth, she ripped at the barrier between her and what she needed. Ettwanae moved against his groin, fire burning as she felt his arousal press to her. The need to copulate was unbearable. She had to get rid of the clothes!

Warren was beyond thoughts of traps and mind control as his lust whipped as wildly as the wind around them. Nothing existed but the drive to mate. He must have her. All of her – leave nothing untouched. Be with her, in her. Now! He devoured her mouth, nearly crushed her in his embrace. He moaned as she ground against him, while two pairs of hands ripped at cloth desperately to remove the obstacle.

/ _Poda?_ / A strange voice came into her head. She ignored it as his mouth explored the skin exposed by a rip in her top.

/ _Poda!_ / The voice reverberated within her mind. 'Volu?' she distantly put the voice and name together.

/ _Poda – listen to me!_ /

She ignored the telepathic call. Ettwanae was too busy tearing at her soulbound's clothes.

_/ Ettwanae! Look down, now! _Do it! / The cry was desperate and commanding.

To silence the intruder, she tore her mouth away and glanced down. "_GODDESS!"_ They were freefalling and the ground was nearly upon them.

The woman's scream nearly stopped Warren's heart. Then jarring realization of what was about to happen drove panic through him.

Two pairs of wings shot out in instinctive reflex to grab air and halt their plunge as they shoved away from one another. Swooping in opposite directions, feathers brushed the tops of the pines standing tall in the alpine forest they'd come so close to crashing into.

The blend of sex hormones with those of raw panic was too much. Her head whirled chaotically and her body shook violently. 'Must land,' she thought breathlessly and scanned the landscape. Sighting a small clearing, she headed in that direction. / _Thank you, Volu!_ / Ettwanae projected out to her friend high above the planet.

/ _You frightened me, Poda. _/

/ _That's makes two of us. Dear goddess, so close!_ /

/ _Be careful, Ettwanae. First Meeting can be…intense._ /

Ettwanae shook her head in disbelief. / _You call that merely intense?_ / Gentle amusement was Volu's silent response.

She landed in the clearing, her heart and breath still racing.

###

High above, Volu monitored. The plunge from the sky scared her. While Ettwanae and her soulbound likely would have survived the fall, both would have been in much pain and helpless until healed. And if one or both had impaled on a tree, it would have been a very serious situation.

There was little doubting that Ettwanae had found her soulbound – sensor readings on the two beings all but confirmed. The physical response was classic. Even after millennia, the species retained its primal drives – mating being one.

Then something nudged Volu's sensor attention away from the winged pair as they landed. With Ettwanae safely on the ground, Volu widened her awareness once again. A small skimmer was coming to rest at the edge of the meadow where the pair was recovering. She scanned more deeply and then more broadly – extending her intense probe to the surrounding mountains. Volu lurched in space as fear gripped her.

'_They_ are here!'

###

'My _god_, Worthington, what the hell were you doing!' Warren followed the mystery woman he nearly splattered himself on the mountainside trying to have aerial sex with.

Ettwanae watched her soulbound alight some distance from her. It took everything she had not to run to him, knock him to the ground, and take him right there. She shuddered from the effort to stay where she was.

"I am Ettwanae. What is your name?" she called out, surprised her voice sounded steady.

Warren was wary, but the drive to make love was still nearly all-consuming and he was torn. There she stood in all her exotic beauty – ethereal and majestic. The mountain winds caught her hair and wings, lifting them – enticing him. His body wanted more of her taste, smell, her feel with an intensity that was painful. He moaned from the need and clenched his fists so hard he nearly drew blood.

"What…are…you doing…to me?" he demanded, struggling to push words out.

Seeing his distress heightened her desire to a level that stole her breath all over again. She wanted to fill that need. "We share the affects of…first meeting of soulbounds." She took a caution step forward. He didn't move, but watched her, conflict clearly etched in his beautifully handsome face. She took another step. "What is your true name?" she asked again, fighting the urge to rush into his arms.

'True name?' What did she mean? "No answers…until you…explain." Mistrust reasserted itself along side burning desire. He held to control by an unraveling thread.

A wave of heat ran the length of her body. She groaned, nearly collapsing to her knees. She struggled against instinct, her voice almost a victim to its call. "When…when soulbounds meet for the first time, it c-can b-be like this. We are meant to be together." Primal urges would not be denied, and she shook violently. "_Please_! I need you," she was not above begging.

The plea hit him with irresistible force. Instinct overrode all fears and logic and drove his body to act in defiance of his will. With one leap and downbeat, he closed the distance between them with lightening speed and he was upon her. But as their mouths connected with bruising force, a flash of blinding pain sliced through his head and blackness swallowed him.

###

She did not care what alarms or warnings her headlong plunge through the atmosphere set off on the remote planet called Earth. Ettwanae was in terrible danger. She would not lose her Other – not again. Then sensors told her both Eshaaru were unconscious and she shuddered in raising panic.

/ _Ettwanae! _/ she screamed with her mind. No response, as she knew there would not.

###

He smiled from the unexpected bonus. Two for the price of one. Yet without specific orders to capture the female, he'd simply release her if commanded to do so. Moving back to the skimmer, he allowed himself just a bit of satisfaction. Weeks of waiting were about to come to fruition. All that remained was retrieving the unconscious bodies that had succumbed to his mindblast.

As he settled the skimmer within feet of his prey, sensors raised the alarm he had been expecting just as a soft presence in his mind nudged an alert. The other ship was dropping through atmosphere at an alarming speed toward his location. He had to move very quickly. 'Cover me!' he rammed the telepathic command out to his own waiting spacecraft as he leaped out of the skimmer.

'Take no chances, get the target,' he told himself running toward the one known as Archangel. With the other ship closing in, he'd leave the female. Grabbing up the limp male, he hoisted him across a shoulder and turned to run back to his surface craft. 'Surprisingly light for his size,' he took a moment to note.

###

Volu streaked through atmosphere. / _I am coming, Poda!_ / she called out again with her mind; only silence replied. Scanning ahead, the enemy was unarmed, yet she knew he was the cause of the pair's unconsciousness. 'Telepathic assault,' she concluded. Volu watched with dread through scanners as the attacker approached the fallen soulbounds. When the man grabbed Archangel, she readied the only weapon she would risk under the circumstances. The other ship barely registered on her sensors as it rose up from its hiding place, its cloak only partially employed in obvious warning. Volu ignored the threat. It would not fire on her – could not.

###

'This needs to happen quickly,' he told himself with a glance to the sky. He caught a glimpse of distortion ripples. / _Bae!_ / he raged. It was his last act as the world convulsed and vibrated violently around him. He and his prey dropped like stones to the ground, awareness gone instantly.

###

"What the fuck's happenin'?" Flint demanded when Volu told him and Gatebi get to the hatch immediately – there was trouble. The whole business about finding more Eshaaru he understood, but it was becoming more and more dangerous. It's not what he'd signed up for. Adventure, yes. People trying to capture or kill them at every turn, not so much.

"Flint, hurry, please." Fear came through the audio feed as clearly as the words. He met up with Gatebi who was already on the lift that had begun descending to the lower level.

"We should have accompanied her," Gatebi pointed out with the I-told-you-so smugness she wore with expertise. It always riled him.

"If Twae wants to go cruisin' solo, that's her biz."

Gatebi gave him her usual look when she hadn't a clue as to what he'd said. 'You'd think after all this time, the clever alien tech that calls itself a universal translator woulda figured some of it out,' he thought sardonically. "We're not her freakin' babysitters."

The woman moved on to her usual disapproving frown. "But we do take care of each other, Flint. Or would you rather we not?"

As the lift neared the bottom, the duo leapt off and raced to the opening hatch, wind swirling in the bay, nearly knocking them from their feet. Looking through the opening, it was apparent they were coming in hot for a landing.

"Volu, Ettwanae is in trouble?" Gatebi called out.

"She is unconscious. They are here. We must return her to the ship quickly."

They are here. It was all that needed to be said. Gatebi and Flint exchanged fearful glances as the ship slowed quickly above a mountain meadow. Three bodies were lying on the ground – two with wings, one without. Volu settled herself in the tall, mountain grass.

"That's the other bird we've been looking for?" Gatebi gave him a scowl, but held her tongue. He loved yanking her chain despite the tense situation.

"Yes. He must be brought on board as well," Volu ordered as they settled onto the grassy clearing.

"Least there'll be some more testosterone 'round here. All the girly hormones on this boat can drive a guy to drink!" Yank.

Gatebi's scowl deepened. "Why Ettwanae doesn't drop you off at the nearest mining colony, I cannot begin to understand," she snapped back with indignation oozing. Then she was off like a shot out the hatch, Flint on her heels.

###

Warren struggled through the sticky, thick mud that was awareness, fighting to comprehend. His body vibrated as if it were a very taut string that had been plucked, yet it was numb. Vision was a blurry blend of light and shadow and hearing consisted of a loud ringing – all other sound heavily muffled. 'What?'

He saw movement around him, then hands were grabbing him under the arms and the knees, carrying him. He couldn't move; his body simply didn't respond. Helpless, he couldn't stop what was happening. Fear pumped adrenaline. His body whizzed as his healing factor fought whatever had hit him. Within moments, he was laid out on a flat surface and the hands release him. The world was still out of focus, but as the ringing in his ears eased, words became discernable.

"Are they okay?" a female voice asked.

"Merely stunned," another female replied.

"Hey, this dude looks like he could be Twae's brother!" a male voice piped in.

"Ettwanae's regaining consciousness," the first female announced.

Warren felt a close presence. The dark blob next to him started to come into focus.

"Him, too. Come on, little birdie. Time to wake up." Flint looked more closely at the winged man struggling to consciousness. "Hey, Gabby, I know this guy! Don't mean _know_ him, but know who he is. Now what the fuck's his name?" Flint wondered rhetorically, straining to resurrect the memory.

Abruptly, his healing factor won its battle in a rush of focused vision, cleared hearing, and bodily control. A male face loomed over him. In a flash of movement, Warren's had his hand around the man's throat and in a throw-down maneuver, his attacker was on his back with Warren straddling his body, pinning the man to the floor by the neck.

"Nobody move or I break his neck!" Warren squeezed tightly for emphasis. His hostage struggled and coughed. Quickly surveying his surroundings, it appeared they were in a room with one female Alcab standing and the woman calling herself Ettwanae lying on the floor, but struggling to sit up. Where were they? He'd been in the air near his aerie last he recalled. More memories took form – her, the mysterious pull of lust, kissing, falling, landing in the meadow…

The Alcab gasped. "No! We're friends. You're in no danger."

Warren wasn't buying it. "Really? Then who the hell attacked us! What do you want?"

The Human continued to struggle annoyingly, hands wrapped around Warren's wrist in a vain attempt to dislodge his hold. He wasn't nearly strong enough for that. "Lie still!" he ordered down.

Ettwanae got upright; wide eyes revealing fright. "She- she speaks the truth. Please don't hurt Flint!"

Warren eyed the threesome warily. They made an interesting group – Alcab, Human, and proclaimed Eshaaru. He wouldn't let the kid go quite yet.

"Hey, dude. We're not gonna hurt ya," the juvenile choked out as he tugged at Warren's arm uselessly. "Twae's been cruisin' around the galaxy hoping to hook up with you. She's been kinda obsessing over it, but you're safe, man."

Warren looked hard at the teen, registering that he wasn't speaking Turzent as were the other two. "Perhaps you should be quiet before your mouth gets you in even more trouble," he warned in English.

"Be quiet, Flint!" Ettwanae chided with a sharp look. Then her eyes returned to Warren. "He's right, though. You are safe here. We mean you no harm."

A shiver of desire raced through him again. 'Shit! Get your libido under control, Worthington.' He studied her face and body language closely. No signs of deceit there, but then she claimed to not be Human, so body signals had to be doubted. Yet no ill intent radiated from her. Ettwanae indeed could be mistaken for his sister – uncannily so. A female version of him sat facing Warren, her crystalline-blue orbs filled with a concern and wonder. He had to tear his eyes away as wanton lust all but bowled him over yet again. 'Steady, flyboy.'

Turning his study to the Alcab, she looked scared, but not hostile; holding herself in a manner unsuggestive of a physical threat. She appeared to be the eldest of the trio, but certainly not old. Perhaps 23-25 Earth years. Hard to know with an alien species. He cast his gaze down to the obvious Human. American. No doubting the accent – Upper Midwest. Young, 18-19 max. Smart-mouth by all early indications. 'Damn bunch of kids.' Warren knew from hard experience, though, how much pain and trouble a bunch of kids could cause.

He released the boy's throat, but did not dismount. "You three have a lot of explaining to do. _You_, in particular," he directed at Ettwanae. Then he got up, completely recovered from whatever hit them in the meadow. Another wave of sexual hunger swayed him. 'Jesus!' From the look on Ettwanae's face, the wave hit her as well. Her face flushed and eyes dilated. Warren caught a subtle trembling of her hand as the Alcab extended hers, which Ettwanae grabbed to pull herself up. Warren noted with interest Ettwanae recovered as fast as he had.

"I'll tell you whatever you wish to know," his look-alike offered with a tentative smile.

"Right now, I want to know where I am."

/ _Volu, what happen?_ / Ettwanae projected, struggling to put the pieces together as the situation de-escalated.

/ They _were there. He rendered you unconscious psionically I believe. He was taking Archangel when I used my concussive weapon to disable him. Unfortunately, you both were also impacted. Flint and Gatebi brought you inside._ /

Ettwanae struggled to turn off the urges, but even dual assaults in the mountain meadow had done little to quell raging hormones. She wasn't so certain she could control herself with him so easily within reach. Perhaps if they sat? 'Or maybe I could ask Gatebi and Flint to hold me down?' she winced mentally. "Perhaps we should sit and talk?"

Warren shook his head. He'd go no deeper into wherever they were. His senses were telling him that they were moving and Earth's magnetic field was gone. "No. Are we on a ship? Have we left Earth?" he conjectured in an accusatory tone.

Ettwanae was surprised. Few beings would have been able to detect that. Another sign he was Eshaaru? / _Volu, what is our status?_ /

/ _I am preparing for FTL._ /

"We're aboard Volu – my ship."

"And we've left Earth, haven't we?" he repeated, fighting the arousal that threatened to consume him. 'Damn it all! Need to get out of here.'

She nodded, sensing his pruriency, which only escalated hers, nearly robbing her of breath.

"Turn us around now," he commanded through clenched teeth in the most authoritative voice he could muster. He was _not_ going to be kidnapped by a some kids playing sex games.

"Please, can't we just talk? I'll explain everything," she implored. Their first encountered was not going well. The wild swings between joy, lust, and panic were extreme enough. Now he was becoming agitated again. Just to add to her emotional maelstrom, another demanding urge to knock him to the floor and mate rolled over her. A moan escaped before she could stifle it.

The groan sent him reeling. With every ounce of willpower he possessed, Warren stood his ground. The effort almost muted him, but he worked his throat to find his voice. "This…had better be…good."

Ettwanae was on the verge of panting in her efforts to control the carnal drives seeking to wrest control.

"If I may make a suggestion…" a disembodied, female-sounding voice filled the room.

"Fuck and get it over with?" Flint offered, eyebrows raised to emphasize the obviousness of his idea. He was rewarded with a pointed jab in the side. "_What_?" He turned sharply to Gatebi. "You'd hafta be dead not to feel the heat. It's sizzling in here!"

Warren grabbed Ettwanae's arm hard before he thought the action through. "Who was that – that other voice?"

"That's the ship, dude. A real tightarse. Never heard her crack a joke yet," Flint injected.

Warren shot the kid a warning look. "Did I ask you?" He turned back to Ettwanae. "Is that true?" Then desire intensified with flashover swiftness sending quivers right down to his wingtips.

She nodded. His hand on her arm stole her voice. 'Sweet goddess!' With hands tightened into fists and nails dug into flesh, she held to herself. 'Stay in control. Just stay in control,' she repeated the mantra.

"Remove your hand from her now!" The disembodied voice boomed and Warren jumped back startled. "I suggest you go both get something to eat. Your energy levels are dropping. That condition will weaken self-control."

Warren refocused himself quickly. How was it possible he was being taken against his will by aliens once again? 'I'm cursed – only explanation.'

"Not until we return to Earth!" he growled as anger ignited. "What you are doing is kidnapping. And I won't tolerate-"

"What we just did," the voice interrupted tersely, "was stop an Etagllot operative from kidnapping you for their twisted purposes. Perhaps you prefer I take you back to the meadow and let them have you."

"Etagllot?" Warren shivered for an entirely new reason. The idea of the Etagllot slipping through the heavy security net surrounding Earth quickly cooled his runaway libido. If true, it confirmed the illicit organization was still after him for the nannites. 'What happened to all Gtar-Cro's defenses?' He wasn't the only one in potential danger – any Human, and particularly mutants – were at risk. He had no proof of the voice's declaration, but if there was even the slightest chance the Etagllot were once again a threat to Humans… "I need to warn people. Get me back to Earth now!"

"You may warn whomever you wish from here."

"Volu's right. We can comm anyone you want. Please, let me explain everything first. Give me just a few minutes."

Warren eyed Ettwanae. "A few minutes are all you have. First, though, this ship comes to a halt."

"Volu, please stop," Ettwanae requested into the air.

/ _That is not wise, Poda. They likely follow._ /

/ _Just for a few minutes, Volu, or he will become more upset._ /

Ettwanae heard the mental sigh.

"It is done," the ship confirmed. "Now you both need sustenance."

Warren realized the ship's artificial intelligence, or AI as it was commonly called, was right. He felt depleted, as if he hadn't eaten all day. In fact, he was almost shaky from caloric deficiency. Sensing no immediate danger, Warren acquiesced. "Food and explanations then."

"Hey, eating's always a good start, right?" Flint asked, his eyes darting from one to the other, rubbing his throat absentmindedly where Warren had held it in a vise grip, still trying to put a family name to the winged man.

Warren followed Ettwanae at a safe distance toward a round platform in the floor. He stopped abruptly.

"It's an elevator, man. Don't let it spook ya. No sides, but you get use to it," the teen encouraged in his own way.

It wasn't an open lift that made Warren pause; it was the closeness of her if they took it together. At the moment, he had the urges barely under control, but if he came too near the object of his lust… "Perhaps the two ladies should go first. Flint and I will follow."

Ettwanae turned toward him. "What should we call you?" She knew his Imperial moniker, but doubted it was his real name.

"Warren."

"Warren," she repeated thoughtfully. It wasn't an Eshaaru name and seemed alien on him.

Memories cells fired and Flint had the name and all that went with it, but he'd save his proclamation for a moment when his revelation would be most applauded.

"My name is Ettwanae, if you don't remember."

Warren let himself smirk. "Oh, I don't think I could ever forget it." Something nudged him about the name. So familiar…

###

_A/N: Okay, so the first chapter wasn't exactly short (12 pages in Microsoft Word), but most will be this length or less. _

_A review from you will absolutely make my day. Have I captured your attention? Do you want to keep reading? What do you think of the new characters so far?_

_Your impressions and thoughts will keep me motivated as I plow through the final editing chore. _


	3. Chapter 2

_I don't own the X-men or any of Marvel's characters. Everything else is mine._

_A/N: Who are these people that prevented the Etagllot kidnapping and what is their agenda? Read on to find out._

**Chapter 2**

"Do you need more?" Gatebi inquired, ready to retrieve additional food if she must. She and Flint had watched as the two winged beings devoured everything they'd pulled out. Flint sat to her left and between the two of them, they'd eaten a fraction of what just one of the Eshaaru consumed voraciously in less than 10 minutes.

Ettwanae and Warren exchanged glances from opposite ends of the table, shaking their heads in unison. Warren hadn't experience hunger that strong since after his and Ztar's escape from Ymoz. 'What gives?' he wondered. Did his sudden overactive sex drive work up that much of an appetite? It didn't add up, but that was the least of his concerns.

"God, if they snarfed anything more, we'd hafta stop somewhere to restock. Where do ya put it all?" he teased. "If Gabby and I ate like that, we'd be rollin' lard balls! Grams use to say some people eat like birds, meaning they hardly ate nothin'. She wouldn't say that no more if she saw these two birds eat!" That got him a rewarding frown from Gatebi.

Appetite sated, Warren looked to Ettwanae. Her top was torn and way too much cleavage was showing for his comfort. One sleeve was half separated from the shoulder, again exposing skin. The hair that hung to breast length was a tangled mess, giving her the appearance of a wild woman. He swallowed hard – it was all too strangely alluring…

Pulling his eyes away, he looked down at himself. Somewhere along the way, he'd completely lost a sleeve from his shirt. One of his pants pockets hung on only by threads, and simply from the coolness on his back, he knew the wing slits in his shirt were much larger than they started out. Likely, his hair was in equal disarray. He grimaced at the somewhat fuzzy recollections of animalist behavior. 'What the hell did you let happen!' he chided himself, smarting from embarrassment of losing all self-control. 'And you call yourself a Worthington – a name synonymous with restraint.' He'd set aside self-recriminations for later, though.

"I've been patient," he announced, pushing his plate away. "Now you will tell me what's going on."

She studied his face – the intensity of the blue eyes, the finely carved features, and the wild tousle of golden hair that begged for fingers to tame it. "He's so gorgeous!' Heat started rising in her nether regions once again. 'Stop it!' she commanded her body.

/ _Ettwanae, there is a method I can use to temporarily suppress the urges if you wish._ / Volu offered into her head.

/ _You're scanning me?_ / Ettwanae felt violated. These were private feelings. Then she mentally jerked at her reaction. 'This is _Volu_. Why am I annoyed?'

/ _For your own safety._ /

/ _I'll handle it myself._ / She was firm. Shades of doubt permeated the telepathic connection and it strengthened Ettwanae's resolve. 'You can do this!' she encouraged herself while still confused over the feelings of sullied privacy.

Warren watched Ettwanae. She was "gone" for a moment, but not the thinking kind of gone. He'd been around telepaths since age sixteen and she had that look. Was she indeed telepathic and trying to exert control?

"You have not been properly introduced to my friends. This is Gatebi." The Alcab female gestured welcome with one hand. "And he is Flint." The boy smiled a wide grin that was far too mischievous.

'Don't trust that one any farther than you throw him,' Warren surmised of the teen. 'If even that far.' He sat back in the chair. He'd start with easy questions to relax everyone. "Ettwanae, you said this is your ship. The female voice – is that its AI?"

Ettwanae shook her head slowly. "Not exactly..."

"Your pilot?" Warren was confused.

"Man, you've no idea!" Flint jumped in eagerly. "She's fuckin' incredible – even I gotta give her that. Vo's our-" Flint felt the familiar prickles on the back of his neck. "Vo_-lu's _our ride andpretty pimped out, too. We can snoop 'round where other's get nabbed with her off the Richter scale cloak of invisibility and all. 'Cept for that _one_ ship, but that's just one," the teen dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Otherwise, we're like ghosts. Pretty rad. But like I said before, Vo's a tightarse. Don't go pissing her off, I'm warning ya, man." The sharp prickles that ran down his spine made him jerk. It was Volu's way of reminding him to use her proper name. 'Goddamn, uptight alien!' he lashed out with his thoughts.

Still unclear what the situation was with the ship, Warren looked at Ettwanae who was giving Flint a melting look. "Does he always talk like that?" Perhaps a bit of levity would further reduce tensions on multiple levels.

Her eyes turned to his and a full smile appeared for the first time – it was radiant. Just that small thing and he had to rein himself in all over again, sweat beginning to form from the effort. He focused on their conversation to redirect his attention from less productive thoughts.

"Sadly, yes," she sighed.

"Must get annoying."

"Extremely," she confirmed with an exaggerated sigh and upturning of her hand.

He watched the hand move in surreal fascination imagining what it could do… Warren shook himself mentally. "Could be a sign of a wanna-be complex. Kid from small-town nowhere wanting to be big city."

"He definitely wants to be _something_. I'm not sure he knows what that is." Ettwanae was riveted by each expression of his face, the way he held his head, how the light caught the gold of his hair. The words they exchanged barely registered.

Flint looked back and forth between them. "Hey, dudes. I'm right here, ya know!"

Gatebi chuckled.

He locked eyes with the Flint. "Human, right?"

The kid nodded enthusiastically. The time was right. "Yep, not many of us out here, ya know? But I know _you_…you're that guy from the X-men. Shitload of money, too. Warren Worthington the fourth or fifth or something. You own Worthington Industries, am I right?" Flint felt all eyes on him and he waited for the deserved praise of his knowledge of billionaires and kick-ass mutants.

Warren smirked internally. Flint wanted to impress his friends. "Pretty sharp, kid. I wouldn't have thought someone your age paid much attention to anyone over 25."

"I watch the news…well, did. Sometimes." Flint turned to Gatebi and Ettwanae. "This guy's an X-man. Ya know what that _means_?" At the women's silent indication of cluelessness, Flint plunged in. "X-men are mutants like me. They take down badass mutants that wanna take over the world, wipe out regular Humans, shit like that. Save the world and all. Only the best of the best get ta be an X-man. War here, he's one of the originals! Goes way back before most people even knew us mutants existed."

Flint swung back toward Warren despite perplexed looks from Ettwanae and Gatebi. "And not just any X man. This guy's up there with Bill Gates in the money department, maybe higher! You sure know how to pick 'em, Twae!" Then he leaned toward the mutant with an unlimited bank account. "Hey, man, now that we're hangin', I was thinking maybe…ya know, jeans and t-shirts can't be had out here," he explained with a wave of the arm into the air. "Been forced to wear these sacks," Flint tugged at his shirt with disdain. "Any chance we can hit up Old Navy? No, no – Abercrombe! Yeah, that'd be better. Just need a few things…jeans, t-shirts, maybe some decent sneakers. Adidas or Nike would be good. I'm really not that picky. You probably know the best stores. Maybe we cruise Miracle Mile or – or New York City! Yeah, that's it! We go jeans shopping in New York City. You gotta know the best stores. Maybe some of those custom jeans – the ones made just for you? That'd be off the scale!"

Ettwanae, Gatebi, and Warren sat speechless.

Flint's eyes widened. "But I can see shopping isn't something that gets ya goin'. You've got _people_ for that. Of course!" Flint looked back and forth between Gatebi and Ettwanae. "You see, people like Warren don't shop for themselves. They got _staff_." The teen turned to Warren with an expectant face. "So, here's what we do. Vo will measure me and we'll send the orders down to your people. Then we just swing by and pick it all up later…maybe at your penthouse? You _gotta_ have a New York penthouse, right? Yeah! I think we got a plan. We can just hang in your penthouse until the clothes arrive. _Sweet!_ Thanks, man!" The grin spanned ear to ear.

Warren blinked. When he thought levity might help, he hadn't envisioned so much. "Incredible." Warren rested his arms on the table and redirected to Ettwanae. "So-o-o, _why_ did you come looking for me, aside from shopping for jeans."

"Hey, it was just an _idea_!" Flint protested, sitting back, crossing his arms in indignation, and planting a boyish pout across his face.

'Goddess, don't lean closer like that,' she warned Warren silently as she crossed her legs to stop herself from jumping him. She bit her lip and dug her nails into her palms. "I am searching for anyone of our kind and my parents. Then I learned of you, a member of the Emperor's Court! But things kept happening that delayed me."

Flint uncrossed his arms and sat upright in reignited enthusiasm. "We've been busy, man. You wouldn't _believe_ the shit stuff we-"

Gatebi placed her hand on the teen's upper arm. "Flint, allow Ettwanae to tell him."

Flint huffed. "Fine."

"We've made some progress in our search."

She pulled at a chain around her neck revealing an amulet. The mere thought of the jewelry sliding up between her breasts sent a shot of heat to his groin. He nearly groaned. 'Steady, Worthington.' He squeezed his hand into a fist.

"This amulet has ports for three memory nodes. The nodes were placed in my family's repository for me when I was still a child, but when Volu and I got there, it had been looted." The injustice and pain of that loss filled her once again. "Our people's history and that of my family – gone. But we managed to recover one node. It contains the history of my family's life after my mother and father were bound. Right up until I was left on Sat'rey. I won't stop searching for the rest of the nodes – and for my parents." Her voice conveyed conviction.

Something tugged again at Warren's memory. Ettwanae…Sat'rey. "And now you're here. You say you're Eshaaru, but no one's seen an Eshaaru in a very long time from what I've read. Some doubt they ever existed." Warren pointed out as the image came to him that the Fjai scientist shared of a winged man from 20 years ago. 'Well, maybe it hasn't been such a long time.' On Fjai, Warren had felt the man was perhaps another winged Human. Now though…

"I don't know about anyone other than me, but I stayed hidden for years. There are people out there who want to capture Eshaaru for their own purposes. So I've used a cloaking device since I was very young to hide who I am. It works like this." Ettwanae pressed three points in quick succession on her chest with her thumb and first two fingers. With a mirage-like shimmer, she suddenly looked like a female native Sat'reyan.

"An image inducer!" Warren had used the technology when he still had his blue skin and steel wings courtesy of Apocalypse.

Ettwanae nodded, turning off the false image in the same manner. "I believe that other Eshaaru may use the device to hide. The technology even gives false readings to scanners. It's very advanced – even blocks the tactile senses of anyone who should brush against a wing. And the device itself is undetectable, at least so far."

"Remember though what you told us about those scientists on Hydeera – they knew something was wrong with the scan readings," Gatebi piped up. "Their scanners were apparently very sophisticated."

"Hydeera?" Warren asked. Again, memory nudged when the Alcab said Ettwanae's name. Then it hit him. 'Oh my god! The enigma – the missing friend!'

"_You're_ Ettwanae!" It escaped before he could stop it.

Three pairs of eyes locked onto him.

"Well, yeah, man. She kinda _knows_ that." Flint quipped sarcastically.

Warren shook his head. "You know Merryth from Yaunra?"

Ettwanae eyes widened, but then two and two jelled. Merryth worked at Ztar's palace and Warren was Royal Court of Ztar and had lived in the royal residence. "Yes! You, also?"

Warren nodded. "She spoke of you. In fact, she was very worried about you after your adoptive father died. You just disappeared."

"That was Bhenra." Her heart lurched still at the thought of her beloved Baumpa. "I had to leave – he said people were after me. He- he told me to run. Baumpa was right – I barely escaped."

"What people?"

"The Shozen. Our people's old enemy."

Warren wasn't familiar with the name, but it wasn't relevant to him getting home. "Did they kill Bhenra?" He asked gently, seeing the sadness on her face.

"I'm not certain. He was alive when I found him that night, but dying." Her voice caught. She forced down the emotions and fidgeted with her amulet. "A lot doesn't make sense. I may never know what really happened." She shook her head, still perplexed about the events of that horrible time.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Ettwanae. It must have been extremely difficult. Your father dead and people chasing you. Obviously, you're a survivor." He gave her a quick encouraging smile. "It was after that you started searching for your people?"

Her eyes shot up to his. "_Our_ people. You are Eshaaru, too." As she said it, she knew it was a mistake as Warren's face hardened.

'Here we go again!' Warren crossed his arms and locked his eyes with hers. "Ettwanae, I am not Eshaaru. I am Human – a mutant. I resemble you, yes, but that's as far as it goes. A wild coincidence in a universe full of flukes and quirks. I've been scanned by the Shi'ar and the best medical facility in the Turzent Empire. Nothing has yet proven to me I'm anything other than that. My DNA is Human without a doubt."

Ettwanae looked back into the crystalline-blue orbs that held hers. "And my DNA is Sat'reyan without a doubt as far as the scanners are concerned. Your image doesn't have to be disguised; the device can give false genetic scan results alone," she pressed. No sense back peddling now.

Warren jerked. "If I had an embedded inducer, I'd know it."

"I wouldn't have known if Baumpa hadn't shown me," she offered tentatively.

"Yeah, man," Flint jumped in. "Like she already told ya, scanners can't rat it out."

"I can." Volu's voice startled everyone.

###

As soon as he regained consciousness, he summoned the ship to the clearing. Advanced cloaking ability kept the inhabitants of the backward planet oblivious to their presence. The ship's natural cloak wouldn't hide their presence from Imperial scanners this deep into the planet's gravitational well, but that's where Shozen technology took over, preventing Imperial forces from detecting them as the ship had entered the strongest region of Earth's grav field. Together, the two technologies made for complete stealth – with one singular exception.

/ _You're tracking the ship?_ / he questioned using powerful telepathy to drive his thoughts into the receiving mind. Anger seethed, but he'd hold it in check until back inside the ship.

/ _Yes. Sensors indicated the ship was preparing for FTL phase, but then stopped suddenly. They are stationary just past the fourth planetary orbital path._ / The telepathic voice was filled with anxiety.

He waited for the invisible ship to land on the mountain grasses. A portal dilated open seemingly out of nowhere, revealing the interior of the ship. Entering the small skimmer, he nudged the surface craft into the belly of the spacecraft.

/ _Get us to their location immediately. Then you will disable that ship,_ / he commanded as he powered down the skimmer.

There was no response. / _Acknowledge the command,_ / he demanded as the hatch dilated closed.

/ _She is Eshaar'ne._ / Extreme distress echoed in his mind.

He stepped out of the smaller craft and headed toward the lift that would take him to the bridge. / _I am well aware of that and it is irrelevant. You will disable it by any means necessary. _/ The ship was becoming argumentative and disobedient. A reminder was needed.

/ _But Eshaar'ne never harm one another. Please…I cannot do as you ask._ /

/ _I do not ask, I command! _/ His anger flared and he lashed out with his mind. The ship screamed in her agony, the sound reverberating through his mind and in his ears as the ship shuddered underfoot. / _How dare you have defied me! I lost the target because of your failure – that cannot go unpunished,_ / he sentenced in icy malevolence. Then he hit her with another brutal telepathic assault. He drew it out…long, painfully as the ship's screams filled the air.

/ _That was but a taste of my wrath. Need I remind you of the price of disobedience? Will you jeopardize the life of your Other for the Eshaar'ne?_ /

/ _No._ / The telepathic response more a whimper than a word.

"Then we understand each other, Bae, and you will do as ordered," he said aloud, severing the telepathic link.

"Yes." The barely audible reply was laced with pain – emotional as well as physical.

###

Warren almost didn't want to ask the next logical question. Not that he believe there was any possibility he carried around the cloaking technology, but he worried about the nannites. On the other hand, he felt no threat from the foursome holding him even if they did learn of the biotech that infected him, but he preferred they did not. "To resolve any doubts, I will allow a scan for an inducer, but _only_ for that. Understood?"

"Understood," Volu replied. "A moment please." Everyone was silent. "There is no embedded device." Volu confirmed within seconds.

Warren exhaled, surprised that he'd been holding his breath. "You see? I only look like you. I'm Human."

"There are other methods of masking true DNA," the ship continued. "I can scan-"

"No! No more scans. I forbid it." Enough was enough. He'd go no further down the worn path.

Volu backed off. All evidence suggested he was Eshaaru in spite of his protests to the contrary. Yet to be certain, she needed to perform an intense scan as only an Eshaar'ne can do on an Eshaaru. However, she would obey his command for the moment. "As you wish, Warren."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Gatebi broke it. "Flint and I met Ettwanae on Hydeera. She rescued us from those _scientists_." The last word was nearly spat out. Memories of her time at the hands of the Etagllot flooded back. She mentally cringed and pushed the recollections aside. "That's where Ettwanae first saw you."

Ettwanae gestured agreement. "Volu learned that Emperor Ztar had a possible Eshaaru – you – on his Royal Court. I was shocked! But we weren't certain you were Eshaaru. There are people who look similar, but are not Eshaaru."

Warren was glad to hear her concede that point. "So that's when you decided to look for me?"

"I couldn't right away. There were…complications."

Flint nearly jumped in his seat. "Hey! Gabby and I didn't ask to be rescued by you and Vo. Don't-" he flinched. 'Damn!' he silently swore rubbing the back of his neck. "Don't be calling us complications."

"Don't call me Gabby," the Alcab hissed.

"Flint, that's not what I meant." Ettwanae attempted to smooth ruffled feathers. "Life took us all in a direction we didn't intend to go, Warren."

"You call playin' a life and death game of interstellar hide 'n seek only a direction we didn't intend to go! Jesus, Twae, talk about downplays!"

"Stop calling me Twae. My name is Ettwanae."

Flint rolled his eyes. "For the love of God! See, Warren, what I hafta put up with? We need more testosterone 'round here. All these femormones are enough to drive a man to drink! Aliens. We got to stick together, us Humans, I'm tellin' ya. You and me, man. I'm beggin' here!" Flint pleaded.

"Why not just return to Earth if it's so difficult?" Warren asked pointedly.

That seemed to throw the teen. "Well, ahh…it's like this, War. You don't mind me callin' ya War, right? It's not some super-sensitive point with _you_, is it? See ladies, he doesn't get all bent about a nickname. War's cool with it, right man?" Flint shot a plea-filled look Warren's way.

Warren simply stared at the youth with an expectant expression.

Ettwanae dreamily watched her soulbound as he dealt with Flint. Warren was everything she'd hope he'd be – witty, intelligent, self-assured, incredibly good looking. She imagined him over her in bed, wings spread wide, kissing...

"Here's better than there," Flint finally answered.

Warren nodded. "As I thought." He turned to Ettwanae. "You were saying?"

The sound of her name jarred Ettwanae from reverie. "Oh, yes…I was saying…" It took her a moment to remember where she'd left off. "When Volu caught comnet news coverage about the trial on Sat'rey and it showed you going into the justice building, I knew it was time to find you."

"And you followed me to Earth?"

"Yes. I finally reached you!"

Warren felt bad for Ettwanae. He almost wished he could be what she was seeking – a fellow Eshaaru. He couldn't be something he wasn't. And he wasn't buying the soulbound business. 'Likely just pheromones at work. She must be giving off a pretty powerful dose; maybe unconsciously,' he told himself. He'd encountered mutants with that ability, no reason why an alien couldn't also possess the capability. Yet Flint and Gatebi seemed unaffected.

"Sounds like you've been through a lot the past couple years, Ettwanae. I hope you eventually find your parents and your people, but I can't help you with that. You need to take me back to Earth now."

"But we're soulbounds! I know it. The pull we feel – you can't deny that. Please, consider you may be more than you believe."

"_More_ than I believe? What are you implying – that being Human is somehow less?" He was surprised, but then again, not really. Prejudices weren't limited to Humans.

Ettwanae's heart jumped. "That isn't what I meant. I'm sorry. Please, don't be angry."

Warren gave her a cold stare. "Why shouldn't I be? Look at the situation from my perspective. You brought me onto this ship unconscious. I have asked to be returned to Earth, yet I'm still here. How do I know that it wasn't you or your ship that knocked me unconscious? And this soulbound attraction? A mind control trick? Pheromones? Just two possibilities. I don't know you, yet you're asking me to simply believe what you say. From my perspective, this appears to be a kidnapping disguised as a rescue and wrapped in seduction." His anger was growing. He knew he should remain calm, but the possibility of being forcibly taken from Earth again was too much. The blatant overtones of sexual ensnarement hit way too close to home, as well – too similar to the reason Ztar had enslaved him. He would not be so used a second time. 'Never again!' he declared to himself.

Her hopes were fracturing. This was not at all how she'd imagined their meeting would unfold. His eyes were accusing. He was angry. Kidnapping? Mind control? She was confused. He was Eshaaru – all the signs were there. And they were soulbounds! The goddess had blessed them, but he denied it. Why? Everything was unraveling – her hopes, dreams, plans…

"Warren, you don't understand how important this is to Ettwanae," Gatebi spoke up. "If you're Eshaaru, then-"

"No, _you_ don't understand." Warren cut her off sharply and allowed ire to boil over. "I am not Eshaaru, Esserru, Cheyarafim, angel, or anything else. Ever since I got these," he spread his wings slightly, "somebody has wanted me to be other than what I am. I'm tired of it! Tired of people wanting me to fulfill some sexual fantasy or deep-seated psychological need for their mystical or religious icons to be alive and well. I. Am. Human." Warren punctuated each word. "She may well be one of the legendary Eshaaru, but unless you're willing to say all the mutants running around on Earth with wings are Eshaaru as well, don't jump to conclusions about me. I've been scanned, poked, sampled, probed, and tested and no one has found anything in my DNA that isn't Earth origin. Are we clear on that?" He gave each of them a hard look.

Three stunned pairs of eyes stared at him in silence for many seconds. Then Flint raised his hand in whoa gesture.

"Hey, man, chill! Really, you need to take a deep breath or something. Jesus, it's not like being called an Eshaaru is a slam. Twae's just looking for her people!"

Warren took a slow inhale and reined in the anger. He rose in a show of authority. "She has to look somewhere else." Then he turned to that beautiful face once again that appeared to be on the verge of tears. "I'm not what you want me to be, Ettwanae. I'm sorry. I do hope you find your people, but I'm not one of them. I want you to take me back immediately."

Ettwanae stood on wobbly knees. 'To have come so far – so close! I can't lose him!' she begged the goddess. "Please, Warren. It doesn't matter what you call yourself. I don't care. But what we feel between us is real. Please don't leave now. We're meant to be together!" she implored taking two tentative steps around the table, desperation rising.

"Stay back," he warned sternly afraid if she did not, he'd lose himself to uncontrollable desires. As much as he didn't want to, he had to be harsh. "Don't come any closer. Return me to where you found me. Now." He put force into his demand and spread his wings slightly in warning.

Flint and Gatebi looked back and forth between the two wings beings. Ettwanae's anguish was clearly written on her face and Warren's was set hard with determination. The very room seemed to hold its breath.

"I will return you to Earth, Warren." Volu's tone clearly communicated disappointment. "It is better this way, Ettwanae. He is not capable of reciprocating. Best to part now before you are irreparably hurt."

Ettwanae couldn't imagine a greater pain. She'd found a fellow Eshaaru she was certain, despite his objections – her soulbound, no less – only to be rejected. She clenched her fists and her jaw fighting back the tears and sobs. She was successful on one count, but the tears defied her will.

Flint stood sharply, eyes flaring. "You son of a bitch!" the voice nearly trembled in anger. "Just 'cause you're some hotshot X-man and a gazillionnaire, doesn't mean you can shoot her down like that! Twae's been hoping to hook up with you for a long time. Prayin' she'd get the chance. We risked our asses to get here. Do you know what a fuckin' minefield they've got 'round Earth? It's like Fort Knox! But Twae insisted. And a damn good thing she did, too. Saved your ungrateful ass or you'd be headed to the freak labs." Flint shuddered at the memories of the Etagllot. "That's one hellhole you don't wanna be! Show a little gratitude, man."

###

Volu's sensors told her what she'd feared – they approached. Yet the danger wasn't exceptional. She was Eshaar'ne after all. She would not attack. But the alien aboard her was a different story. An extremely powerful telepath and likely telekinetic, he could do a lot of harm. Volu strengthened her shields to maximum.

/ _Ettwanae, they are coming._ /

/ _Close?_ /

/ _Another few seconds._ /

/ _We need to go to FTL immediately then._ /

/ _Yes._ /

/ _He'll hate me for it._ /

/ _We must leave now for everyone's safety._ /

/ _She won't attack, though. What can they do to us out here?_ /

/ _Too much risk._ /

/ _I want to try with him one more time. Delay them, but don't leave the star system._ /

/ _He is very dangerous._ /

/ _Just do it, Volu. Please._ /

###

Flint's defensive display was touching, Warren had to admit, but it changed nothing. They would take him home immediately or he'd turn things ugly very quickly.

"Warren, please. Come with us for just a little while. Learn about our- my people before you make any final decisions. Give me just a little more time. _Please_." Ettwanae gave him her best plea-filled look, pushing her need out to him.

The tidal wave of longing nearly drove him to his knees. 'Goddamn pheromones…telepathy, whatever! Keep it together, Worthington. Fight this!' He maintained control, but it was tenuous. "Whatever you're doing, stop! Return me to Earth," he snarled between clenched teeth. "_Now!_"

On the heels of Warren's bellow, an ear-splitting scream sliced the air. All hands went to ears as the room shuddered around them. Intense nausea and shared pain permeated Ettwanae's mind. She nearly collapsed, throwing a hand out against the wall to catch herself. "_VOLU!_" Ettwanae cried out, panic gripping her. Nothing. "Volu, answer me! _Please_!"

/ _Poda_… / The mental voice was horrifyingly weak.

###

"Very good, Bae," he told the ship as he watched the other Eshaar'ne list in space. "Shields?"

Hesitation. "Still active, but greatly weakened."

"Then hit it again. Do not allow them to escape."

###

/ _Volu, what happened? What's wrong?_ /

/ _Attacked._ /

Pain blended with shock and confusion in the mind touch. / _But I thought…_ /

/ _No explanation. Must flee. _/

Every word entering her mind came with effort. Ettwanae's panic grew.

"What the funk?" Flint asked, shaking his head at the ringing in his ears.

"Quiet! Ettwanae's talking to Volu. Let her concentrate." Gatebi scolded.

"She communicates telepathically with the ship?" Warren asked. It was the only explanation. Gatebi nodded confirmation. 'What manner of AI communicates telepathically? A question for later.' Something very bad had obviously occurred and Ettwanae needed to assess the situation without interruption.

/ _Are you able?_ /

/ _Must._ /

###

He scanned the readings displayed on the console in front of him. The console was not a natural part of his vessel, but rather forced upon the ship by Shozen engineers. It allowed him to monitor the ship's activities and provide independent sensor data. The ship could not deceive him in that way, though they told him Eshaar'ne were incapable of lying as a result of genetic engineering. But the Eshaar'ne was not serving him willingly. With proper motivation, he believed any being was capable of deception and he refused to take chances with a mind he could not probe or control. Upon his insistence, the secondary systems were installed. In an unusual, empathetic reaction, he had felt sympathy for the Eshaar'ne as she screamed in agony when they grafted the equipment to her internally. There was no known anesthesia for her kind.

Scanners clearly indicated the other ship was trying to phase, but struggling. "Stop them!" he bellowed. "Fire again!"

"But it may _kill_ her!" Bae sounded on the verge of hysteria.

"Then you sacrifice your Other to save her." He had her on that one. Given no alternative, Eshaar'ne would die or murder to save their Other. Since his control over Bae included the threat of death of her Other should the Bae choose suicide, a single option remained to the Eshaar'ne. "Fire _now_!"

"_Ple-e-ase!_ Do not command me to do this. I beg you. Do not force me to choose between my child and my Other!"

The desperate plea did not faze him. "The choice is not yours. It is mine. You will fire on that ship!"

After what seemed like an eternity, the display showed the ship preparing its weapon.

###

/ _You can do it, Volu! _/ Ettwanae encouraged, her heart pounding. If he got to them again… 'Goddess, I beg you, in your wisdom, give Volu the strength!' she prayed.

/ _So…much…pain…_ /

/ _Please, Volu! _/

###

They were his. He'd capture his target and bonus targets with a single stroke. He smiled as the energy wave ran from stern to stem through his ship's outer skin and erupted – just as the other ship phased.

Out of his mouth next was a collection of expletives that'd make a hard-ass ruushitz miner blush as the energy blast passed through empty space.

###

_A/N: Got plenty of readers for Chapter 1, but only one review. Thank you faithful Winchester-grl44! Hopefully over the weekend, more of you will have an opportunity to share your thoughts and opinions. Reviews keep me motivated and the chapters coming. Even a single word of encouragement goes a long way!_

_Next chapter, how serious is Volu's damage? Is everyone in danger of dying in space within a mortally wounded ship? _


	4. Chapter 3

_A/N: Warren's an unwilling passenger on a seriously damaged ship with enemies lurking. Now what? Let's find out..._

**Chapter 3**

Ettwanae said nothing to those watching her with fear and confusion. She simply ran out of the room to the bridge. Her Eshaar'ne was in immense pain.

/ _Volu, speak to me!_ /

No reply.

/ _Goddess! / _Ettwanae was dizzy with fear. /_ Volu…please!_ /

She'd detected the subtle sensation of FTL phasing and prayed they were out of danger, at least from the enemy, but if Volu was seriously injured, their lives were in grave peril. She burst onto the small bridge and immediately settled into the pilot's seat. The techno-organic displays in front of her were for just such emergencies. They provided baseline indicators on the ship's condition and sensor data, _if_ Volu was still capable of scanning. A quick glance showed she scanning, but only near-space – just enough for navigation.

Scan readings indicated other ship had not phased with them. While highly unlikely, she was relieved with the confirmation. Ettwanae touched a control nodule and a three-dimensional, exterior image of the ship popped up a few feet in front of Ettwanae depicting the injury as a glowing hotspot covering a large area on one side.

"Oh, my Volu!" Her voice choked with emotion. "My poor Volu." A pain-filled mental touch entered her mind in response, but no thoughts. Then footsteps approached from behind.

"Ettwanae, what happened?" Warren asked as his eyes caught the hologram. It didn't take a genius to figure out the bright area covering nearly one entire side of the holographic ship was damage.

Gatebi gasped and Flint swore. "Who the hell attacked us?" the teen demanded of no one in particular. "It was _him_, right? Goddamn mother fuckin' bastard!"

When Ettwanae turned in her chair to face them, tears were running down her face. "Volu's hurt. It's very bad."

Gatebi immediately moved to Ettwanae's side to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Does she answer you?"

Ettwanae shook her head. "No words, but she's with me."

"Are we in FTL mode? Out of immediate danger?" Warren inquired. That was the first order of business.

Ettwanae's eyes found Warren's. "Yes, she is managing to maintain flight, but she's in terrible pain!" Sobs came despite her attempt to suppress them. Gatebi knelt beside Ettwanae and the two embraced.

The Alcab shot an odd look to Warren. He didn't know what to read into it. Was she looking to him for leadership?

"Well, this sucks big time!" Flint assessed. "Not like we can pull into a space port for repairs. Now what the fuck do we do?"

/ _Poda._ /

"Volu!" Ettwanae exclaimed. She pushed back from Gatebi. "She's talking to me," she said with quick glances all around. "Volu? Can you speak out loud?"

"Yes." The reply was strained. Four sighs came in near unison.

"Volu, have we escaped our attackers?" Warren asked.

"Yes."

"What is your condition?"

"I have substantial integument damage on one side. Shield generation…is collapsing at an accelerating rate, but available at the moment. Weapons…" There was an almost audible sigh from the effort to communicate. "Not available. FTL mode is functional…but must focus completely on that task to maintain phase."

"Then as soon as you feel it is safe to do so, I suggest we drop out of FTL and assess our situation," Warren offered. 'Something more going on here than a damaged AI ship.'

"That would be…advisable. I am uncertain how much…longer I can maintain phase. The pain…is…great."

Again the word pain. From a ship? Warren glanced around. Everything was soft and smooth – organic in appearance. He touched a wall and slid his hand down the firm but supple surface, the feel akin the softest leather one could imagine. It suddenly all fit. "Ettwanae, Volu is alive isn't she? Not just an artificial intelligence housed in a ship."

The Eshaaru stood, her face pale and she was trembling ever so slightly – the wing tips giving it away. "Yes. She is Eshaar'ne."

"A living ship," Warren voiced the realization. Amazing, but also unnerving. 'And living means it could die…from injuries…from these injuries?'

"Our attackers, the Etagllot? Same ones who just tried to kidnap me?"

Ettwanae indicated yes with a typical Sat'reyan tilt of the hand Warren learned from Moit'de. "Just one man who at least works for the Etagllot. He is very dangerous. He's the one that captured and took me to Hydeera."

"I think a long talk about the Etagllot is in order, but right now, we need to focus on Volu."

Ettwanae pulled her wings tight in a protective gesture. "She needs to heal or we are all in danger."

"What are her chances for a full recovery?" Gatebi asked, looking to Ettwanae.

Flint's eyes grew wild. "God, what if she _can't_? What we gonna _do_?" Edges of panic permeated the questions.

Warren turned to the teen. "Then we call for help. If I can get a message to Ztar, he'll send whatever we need."

"No can do." Flint said flatly. "Twae and Vo are low-profile all the way."

Warren was about to ask more, but Volu's weak voice broke in.

"There is a way…for you to help me, Ettwanae."

"How? Your injuries are so great!" she asked desperately, wiping her face.

"Must…show you."

Hope filled Ettwanae's face. "Teach me. I'll do anything."

Many moments of silence followed. The foursome exchanged worried looks.

"Volu?" Ettwanae ventured.

"We are…in…normal space." Volu said in a voice even more strained than earlier. "Should be safe…for now."

Ettwanae's face reflected intensified worry with each struggled word. "Volu, what do I need to do? Don't speak – just show me."

"Poda, the effort will…cost you. My injuries are…significant. It could…be…too much."

"I don't _care_, Volu. I will do whatever you need! Don't worry about me."

The Eshaar'ne was silent for several seconds. "If Warren…chooses to assist, it will spread the effort." There was hopefulness in the voice.

Warren jerked. "What can _I _do?" He locked eyes with the Eshaaru.

/ _Ettwanae, you must vow to me…if the effort becomes too great, you will stop._ /

/ _I will do what is necessary, Volu._ /

/ _Vow to me or I will not show you._ /

/ _I vow._ / She'd deal with any broken promises later. Right now, all that mattered was Volu. / _S__how me. _/ Knowledge flowed from Volu's mind to Ettwanae's. This would be healing on a scale Ettwanae hadn't knows she was capable of, but she'd need help to ensure success without causing herself harm. The question remaining was whether Warren would assist in the dangerous attempt.

Neither the living ship nor the Eshaaru had answered him. Ettwanae had taken on that look. What was she and the ship discussing? Then Ettwanae "returned" and looked to Warren.

"Volu showed me what to do. It involves The Source, but I need your help. Are you willing?"

"What's the source?"

"It's what we- it's an energy source Eshaaru can draw up to- energy we use-" She stumbled, fearing he'd object to anything that suggested he was Eshaaru and become angry again. "The Source is an energy that certain people can tap into to for healing and other things."

Warren had a sinking feeling. He was an energy channeler. The Fjai scientists had determined he did not produce the energy himself, but tapped into some mysterious pool. Was it all the same thing? But they didn't know he could manifest any kind of energy. "Why does Volu believe I can do that?"

Gatebi moved in and spoke before Ettwanae could answer. "Warren, that isn't important right now. Volu is gravely injured. Our very lives depend on her. If you can help, _please_ do so."

While the Alcab was right, he still hesitated. The energy he manifested didn't heal as far as he knew, and if it had the same affect on the ship and her passengers... "I don't think that would be wise. The results may be unpredictable."

Flint yanked on Warren's arm. "Man, if Volu says you can help, believe it. Trust her! Our fuckin' lives are on the line here. If she dies, we're all space junk!"

The teenager was right as much as Warren hated to admit it. "Then we need to send a distress signal."

Flint looked incredulous. "A distress signal? Are you fuckin' _crazy_? That bastard and his rogue Eshaar'ne are lookin' for us. Why don't we just comm our location directly to the bastard so he can cruise on over while we sit here with no weapons, no shields, and a ship that can't even fuckin' run. Of all the _stupid_ ideas!" Flint's arms nearly flailed in his anger.

Warren backed off. There were other options – had to be. If he could send a message directly to Ztar or Gtar-Cro, but help could take longer to arrive than they had time. Perhaps he should do as the teenager suggested – trust the ship.

"Ettwanae, may I speak with you privately?"

"Just do it, man! Vo's dying and you're arguing-"

Warren cut him off. "If I'm going to help, I need to talk with Ettwanae. Get out – both of you!" He commanded.

Gatebi took Flint by the arm and nearly dragged him through the door. Ettwanae's eyes fixed on his, silently imploring him to hurry. The floor shuddered beneath them, emphasizing the urgency of the situation.

"Ettwanae, I do channel an energy, but I don't know from where or much about it. I've never used it to heal anyone and not sure it works that way. What I do know is the last time it fully manifested, a room full of people were put into a trance. And in small doses, it has some very…huh…very amorous effects." In spite of himself and the dire circumstances, he felt heat in his cheeks.

She nodded. "That fits what I know about one form of channeling. My manifestation is the healing form, but it's all the same energy, just filters through differently. Volu says we can combine the energy and pass it through my filter and it will help her heal. We need to hurry, though. She grows weaker by the moment." Ettwanae put her hands on his arms with desperation in her blue eyes.

Warren swallowed. She was touching him and his body was responding already. If he employed his form of channeling, the result could be not at all what they were hoping to achieve. Visions of him and her ripping each other's clothes off nearly sent him into a tailspin. 'Get a grip!' he scolded harshly in his mind. 'Need to focus.'

"If we lose control, Ettwanae, it won't help Volu," he summed up simply. She dropped her hands, much to his relief.

"Volu can help – I think she's strong enough for that. She can suppress the need for first mating in me, but you'll have to control yourself. Are _you_ strong enough?"

"She can do that?" Ettwanae nodded. "Why not in me as well?"

"Volu says we need that part of you active to channel the energy." A confused expression crossed Warren's face. "I'll explain later. Volu worsens." Ettwanae felt their connection weaken with another tremor. "We must hurry!"

'Decision made,' Warren informed himself feeling the ship quake. "What do we do?"

"First we move closer to her injury. Follow me." With that, Ettwanae turned toward the bridge exit. "Gatebi, Flint, I know you're there."

Two rather sheepish eavesdroppers stepped into view. "Warren and I are going to help Volu heal. I need you to move away from us and stay away. Do not approach until Volu or I say you can, understand? I don't care what you hear, you are not to approach until given permission to do so." Her voice was firm. Alcab and Human indicated understanding. "The back storeroom should be a safe distance. Go!"

As the two headed toward the back of the ship, Ettwanae took Warren by the hand and pulled him off the bridge, down the hall, and into a room that looked like a den or family room. "Volu's injuries are on this side, centering about here." Ettwanae explained with a wave of her hand toward the wall he figured must be the ship's exterior hull. She sat on the floor crossed legged. Warren did likewise.

"You must manifest your energy and direct it at me. It will help if you hold my hand. I will take that energy, add my own, and give it to Volu. We probably can't heal her completely, but we should be able to heal the worst of the injuries. Are you ready?"

He wasn't. "Ettwanae, I'm not sure I can. I've only done this with- with one other person and only when we were…when we were having sex." With one major exception on Fjai, he thought. Even then, Ztar had helped him telepathically to manifest the passionate energy.

Ettwanae managed a small smile. "You won't have any problems manifesting with me," she said not boastfully, but truthfully. They were soulbounds. "Volu says the energy will flow with almost a will of its own."

Warren prepared for the mental battle to come, praying he had enough willpower to control himself.

###

He commed the disappointing news to those who waited. The conversation had been a delicate one. They wanted results. They had waited patiently for his plan to unfold. He failed them, she accused. No, he insisted, he had not yet failed. This was simply a setback. He would deliver the one named Archangel.

"While I remain extremely disappointed that Archangel has eluded recapture, the fact that he and the female have united could be beneficial," the woman's face ever so slightly revealed enthusiasm.

"If what I saw is an indicator, this was a possible first meeting of soulbounds, Elder. If so, that means Archangel is indeed Eshaaru."

The female gave him a single, subtle nod. "You are fortunate the Eshaar'ne did not kill you when she had the chance. I will review your scan data. Meanwhile, your primary quarry has eluded you. I trust you have a plan."

"I have his Earth residences under sensor surveillance. When he returns, I will know."

"_If_ he returns." She replied coolly.

"I believe he will, Elder. He has strong ties and commitments to life there, but should he choose to remain with the female, we know the path she follows."

"If he is truly Eshaaru and they are soulbounds, it will be nearly impossible for him to leave the female."

He knew better than to continue to argue his point and changed the direction of their conversation. "Does that complicate the situation or simplify?"

The Elder raised her chin in what he read was subtle message that she caught his tactic. "On the surface, complicates," she replied, apparently deciding to allow him the redirect. "However, there may be advantages to their joining. Two separate elements are now together. I need to re-evaluate the situation and will inform you of any changes in your orders. For now, your assignment remains the same. Retrieve Archangel. The female is to remain free. She serves a different purpose." The woman leaned closer to the comlink. "We want Archangel. The technology he hosts is important to Project One. We are relying on you to succeed. But be warned, Den-neer, do not underestimate the Eshaaru. If Archangel is as we believe, they only grow stronger as a pairing."

"Yes, Elder," he said with a bow of the head. "I will not fail you."

The Elder switched off her comm and turned her gaze to the holographic representation across her desk of a man who in reality was sitting across the vastness of space.

"Our plan unfolds perhaps in new ways," he observed.

"Agreed. We must meet with the other Elders to consider the possibilities, but I believe this as an advantageous event," she opinioned with a satisfied smile.

###

/ _Volu, are you ready? Do you have the strength to suppress first mating?_ /

/ _I believe so._ / The thought-voice was weak.

'Goddess, give us strength!' Ettwanae prayed as she extended a shaking hand to Warren. Then she felt Volu's gentle presence entwine itself with her mind in a touch she'd never experienced before. It felt almost like a squeezing in some deep section of her brain.

"Now, Warren."

Her hand in his – he focused on it. With a breath, he released urges he'd been repressing. Desire grew rapidly, rising from deep within, burning its way up and through. He groaned, bowing his head and squeezing her hand. Passion exploded like an erupting volcano, sending shockwaves crashing through his body. Every nerve was on fire. Lust in searing intensity engulfed him to the point he felt he might melt.

'Stay in control. Stay in control.' Over and over he repeated the mantra as his body flashed over. He wanted her so fiercely. 'In control. Stay in control!' he nearly screamed to himself. 'The energy – find it!' The gate opened almost before he made the attempt and the passionate energy burst through as if a dam had collapsed. He was suddenly only the energy – only the passion. 'Oh god!' His groin was on fire. His body ablaze. Must have her. Now!

When the energy wave slammed into her, Ettwanae swayed. 'Goddess!' Warren was glowing – beautifully, ethereally. They were meant to be together. She must have him. Now and completely. Him in her – no choice. Then the squeezing intensified.

/ _Ettwanae._ /

The sound of her name helped her anchor. She reined the instinctual drives, just as Warren yanked her to him and their lips crashed together.

"No!" She yelled, pushing back and hitting him hard on the arm. "Warren, no! Be strong! You must!"

Her voice and the punch cut through the blinding need and he looked at her – so beautiful! Lunging again only resulted in more of the same. Blinking and shaking himself he tried to focus. 'Remember yourself, Worthington. Think, dammit!' He groaned from the effort. "By the gods!" he exclaimed, borrowing a line Ztar exclaimed so many times.

"Volu needs us." Ettwanae's voice was shaky. Even with Volu's assistance, she held onto control by a thread. She squeezed Warren's hand hard knowing she was causing pain, but pain can help you focus.

Warren let the discomfort in his hand become his new focal point. He reined in the energy and visualized it flowing through their joined hands into Ettwanae. He tightened his grip and let the energy pour through him to her.

Suddenly, the flow was more controlled. She sighed as it filled her. The feeling was rapturous and powerful. She called up her own energy and moaned as the two slightly different patterns swirled and blended. As Volu had instructed, she took in Warren's energy and allowed hers to dominate and shift it. How that happened, she didn't know; it just did – as if the energy understood her wishes and obeyed. She placed her palm on Volu's side and released the power into her Eshaar'ne.

###

Flint and Gatebi sat in stores almost holding their breaths.

"What do you think is happening?" Flint asked, his voice edgy.

Gatebi studied the younger man's face. He was worried and perhaps even afraid. A lone Human who was so far from everything he knew. Less than two standard years ago, he was oblivious to life beyond his little backward world. They'd been through much together in that time. Life and death situations. Gatebi suddenly felt maternally toward the usually irritating Human.

"They will heal Volu, don't worry. Ettwanae is very strong."

"What if she's fucked up too badly? What if she dies? Then what? We suffocate? Or maybe we freeze to death first? Shitty ways to go."

Gatebi placed a calm hand on his clenched fist. "Ettwanae and Warren will not allow Volu to die."

Flint looked into the alien face he usually took great joy in making scowl. Now all he saw was a true friend that he wanted to reassure as much as she was him. "You're right. Twae's strong. And now Warren's here – two Eshaaru? Vo's as good as healed."

Gatebi laughed. "Good thing Volu isn't listening right now. You'd get jabbed for what – the thousandth time?"

He put a crooked smile across his face. "She loves it when I call her that – just can't admit it! Gotta keep up the image, ya know."

The ship suddenly shook violently and two pairs of eyes grew wide. "Shit! We need to get in there!" Flint nearly jumped off his perch on a storage crate, but Gatebi grabbed his arm.

"No. We do as Ettwanae told us. We stay here."

"But-"

"No buts. Sit, Flint."

###

As the energy poured into Volu, Ettwanae was barely aware of anything beyond flow, but a strong tremor did register. Her instant concern was quelled by Volu's mental projection of reassurance. She refocused on sending the healing energies into the body that surrounded and protected them from the void of space. With it, she sent feelings of love, creating a harmonious blend of mental and physical energies.

Lifeforce from The Source flowed through her and into Volu at a rate she didn't believe possible. The injury was so large, so widespread! The healing took more than she could manifest, but she didn't have to do it alone. Warren's energy flooded her and instinct took over, reaching and pulling what she needed from the other being whose hand held tightly to hers. 'More – need more!' she cried out to the goddess. She sensed a vastness of power within Warren – almost limitless. Her own energy responded, drawing deeply from his well.

What Warren was experiencing both frightened and awed him. The energy he summoned was answering another's call. It poured out of him to her without any effort on his part. More and still more. 'Out of control!' his mind decried. All thoughts of sex and desire had fallen by the wayside. For the first time, he felt what he could only describe as overload. And still the pull increased, becoming physically painful, but he would not stop. Wasn't sure he could if he tried. He would trust Ettwanae for Volu's sake. Their very lives depended on success.

Without warning, the energy flow ratcheted up sending waves of pain through Ettwanae and Warren. The two screamed in unison. The universe fell away. There was only brilliant energy and pain.

###

Flint and Gatebi heard the screams. Flint would not be stopped this time and he jumped up.

"No, Flint!"

"I don't give a fuck what she said. They're in trouble!"

As soon as the door to the hall dilated open, blinding light hit them. Shielding their eyes against the golden radiance, they groped their way into the hall. The light was so intense, they felt it on their skin. Strange vibrations permeated their bodies – physical sensations of blended pain and pleasure, mixed with an odd, detached euphoria that neither could describe.

"Holy mother of god!" Flint exclaimed.

"We can't go in there. It's too bright – too dangerous!"

"No shit! What the fuck?"

The ship rocked again. "We best sit down and wait here." Gatebi said sliding to the floor against the wall.

"Good idea," Flint agreed, suddenly not so brave.

###

Ettwanae felt the nudge in her mind to back off.

/ _Ettwanae…my Poda, please stop now._ /

She heard Volu, but the energy was so hard to rein in – it was running out of control.

/ _Ettwanae, you can do this. Slowly…carefully. Do nothing harshly or you can cause injury. That is right. Gently, Poda. Now release Warren, but softly. Yes, like that._ /

Warren was at the end of his endurance. His body shook violently and doubled-over with pain, but he didn't have the strength to stop the flow. Would it kill him? Was it too much? Just as he felt he would lose consciousness, the drain eased dramatically.

With Volu's coaching, she regained control and slowly closed the gates to The Source. Finally, the doorway shut tight.

/ _Volu? Are you healed?_ / she asked wearily.

/ _I am much better. I can heal the rest of the way on my own. Thank you, my Other._ / Gratitude and love filled the telepathic link.

/ _I love you, Volu._ /

/ _As I, you, Ettwanae._ /

Ettwanae opened her eyes and looked into Warren's face. It showed the strain of what they'd done and he was shaking. She reached out a trembling hand and held it to his face. His eyes opened to look into hers. "Thank you, my soulbound," she whispered.

Warren stared deeply into the crystalline-blue eyes that reflected exhaustion. A shockwave of a new kind ran through him at her touch. He wanted her in his life. Without doubt. He and she were meant to be a them. Warren placed his hand over hers that still rested on his cheek. The feeling frightened him – it was too sudden, too unexpected.

"Volu's healed?" he asked into the blueness.

"Well on her way," came the answer with a weak smile.

###

The sight of the two winged beings gazing at each other, her hand cupping his face greeted Flint and Gatebi as they burst into the room.

"Is the news good?" Gatebi asked softly.

Ettwanae nodded, dropping her hand.

"It is indeed good, Gatebi," Volu's voice filled the room.

"Oh, Volu! It's wonderful to hear you sounding strong!" Gatebi replied.

"Yeah, Vo! Good to have ya back!"

"My name, Flint, for the three hundred thirty-sixth time, is Volu."

Flint chuckled, pleased the now familiar prickles on his neck did not follow. "Yep, she's back!"

Gatebi approached the pair still sitting on the floor and knelt down. "What do you require, Ettwanae?"

"God, they look like hell!" Flint shared his observation, walking around the pair on the floor. "Must need food, I assume, as usual. Be right back."

"Thank you, Flint." Ettwanae called weakly to his exiting back.

"I don't ever recall feeling this drained," Warren noted aloud as he shifted to rise, but his head whirled even from the small effort. 'Think I'll stay put,' he thought, settling back down to wait for the food. "What we did – that was…powerful."

"Yes. You tapped into The Source deeply, that is why you are weak. Channeling that much Aru takes a toll on your body. Thank you, Warren. Without you, I doubt Ettwanae would have had the strength to heal me to such an extent. You have my eternal gratitude." Volu's tone reinforced her gratefulness.

Ettwanae leaned over to place a cautious hand on his. "I thank you as well. You helped me save my Volu."

He smiled. It felt good to his soul to have helped. "You're both welcome."

"Can either of you stand?" Gatebi wondered. She was worried about their condition. Both were shaking and their color was poor.

"Gatebi, they should not attempt that as yet. Sustenance is needed and then rest. Flint is returning from stores. I directed him to the high-energy bars."

As soon as Flint returned and handed the Ecanle bars to Warren and Ettwanae, they dived in. Warren was amused at the coincidence. The food bar was the same one Procurement Officer de'Letnoir had introduced him to on the Mi-Lartui years earlier. "I've had these before. They work."

Ettwanae only nodded, her mouth filled with the high caloric, nutritionally dense food usually provided as emergency rations.

Relief quickly spread through their bodies as the calories hit their depleted systems. After downing four bars apiece, the shaking had stopped and Gatebi was happy to see the pallid skin color disappearing. "You are looking much better," she encouraged from her perch on the Eshaar'ne version of a sofa.

Really taking in the room for the first time, Warren decided it was a family room with seating for several people. It looked homey and comfortable, with various objects meant to entice you to curl up and stay a while.

"I think I can stand now," Warren announced. Flint helped him to his feet and he in turn offered a hand to Ettwanae. Grasping it, she looked him in the eyes. The unspoken question was there, but Warren ignored it. She rose, swaying slightly.

"You need rest now. Ettwanae's chambers are close by." Volu let the implication settle.

Flint flashed a mischievous grin at Gatebi. He knew exactly what the ship wanted.

Warren bristled against the prod. "Gatebi, get Ettwanae to her room. Flint, show me were I can sack out for awhile."

Flint was shocked. 'War's gonna pass up an open invitation to Twae's bed? God, if I'd been given the green light like that…' He shrugged. "Uh, sure, man."

"Volu, do you need anything further right now?" Ettwanae inquired; fatigue obvious in every word.

"Just time to rest. We will remain where we are for two standard days. By then, I should be sufficiently healed to enter FTL phase."

"Sensors and scanners are working, right, Volu?" Warren wanted confirmation they weren't sitting blind.

"Perfectly."

Sleep was pulling incessantly. Getting back to Earth could wait. With heavy eyelids, Warren followed Flint to his quarters and Ettwanae went to hers with an attentive Gatebi at her side.

As Flint approached a room just down the corridor from the lounge, the door that was more of a dilating membrane opened. Warren stepped inside. In typical teen fashion, the room was a disaster. As Warren took in the sight, Flint shrugged. "Hey, my pad, my rules."

Warren was too tired to answer or care about the lack of tidiness. Flint quickly cleared clothes, food wrappers, a PI, and other junk off the bed.

"All yours."

As soon as Warren's head hit the mattress, he was out.

###

_A/N: Okay, your turn. Comments, opinions, random thoughts? Let me hear from you…that will give me the encouragement to keep going. _

_Next chapter: Warren's sudden disappearance from Earth hasn't gone unnoticed and one very upset Emperor is ready to rip his empire apart to find Archangel. _


	5. Chapter 4

_A/N: As promised, this one is brief – my shortest chapter ever? Think so. A heartfelt thank you to winchester-grl44 and xrystofer. Without your support, I'd be losing heart right about now. Your feedback keeps me going!_

**Chapter 4**

"The sensor readings are undeniable. Whether it is the ship from Hydeera or another of its kind, we cannot determine, but the scan signature matches."

Ztar was stunned. Archangel was gone; taken from his mountain retreat despite the security shield surrounding Earth and its star system. He'd been on Sat'rey for the Etagllot trial a mere seven standard days ago. His beloved Court member had been happy and safe. Now he was missing.

"How is this _possible_?" he boomed, fear and anger mixing in a desperate swirl. "Earth is as well protected as Sat'rey. How could someone have slipped through?" He quickly shook his head and held up a hand at the PI-generated holograph of General Gtar-Cro. "I already know the answer – same way the ship slipped past us at Hydeera. What kind of technology are we up against?"

During the Hydeera raid, it was only as the vessel entered the planet's atmosphere that their forces detected it and then only barely; otherwise, they were blind to its presence. The outcome was the ship stopped Etagllot gunmen from killing Ztar and Archangel. This time, it had apparently taken Archangel.

Gtar-Cro's face was etched deep with concern. "Technology that eludes our best surveillance sensors. It's as if the ship is not there until in atmosphere. And this incident adds weight to the theory that the ship saved Archangel on Hydeera and you only by default," Gtar-Cro suggested over the comlink from his command vessel far from the royal residence where Ztar was wakened in the middle of the night to take the call.

"To abduct him now, a year later? Why the long wait? Who _is_ this?" Ztar questioned rhetorically as he paced his office. "If Etagllot, then everything we've accomplished the past year is also put into question. Have we not made the inroads we believe? Have they allowed us to think we were making gains against them?"

Gtar-Cro gestured uncertainty. "My Emperor, nothing in our intelligence gathering has even hinted the Etagllot possess vessels this advanced."

"If they do not, then we've an enemy we haven't met. That is perhaps more disturbing than the Etagllot owning that technology." Ztar stopped and crossed his arms over his bare, muscular chest, staring hard at Gtar-Cro's likeness. He'd bothered only to don pants in the rush from bed to take the emergency comm. "I don't like not knowing who my enemies are."

"Should that indeed be the case, Emperor, we need to reassess several our previous conclusions. Who is our mystery opponent and where are they from? Are they connected to the Etagllot? What is their agenda? What do they want of Archangel?"

"The nannites! What else could it be?" Ztar seethed in helpless frustration. "If I could get my hands on the man responsible for putting those in Archangel, he would pay dearly for that atrocity!" Ztar's pacing began again as he fumed. What was happening to his beloved former companion. Was he being hurt? Tortured? Experimented on once again? Anger and helplessness needed an outlet. "Find him, Gtar-Cro. I don't care what it takes, what you have to do…you will find Archangel!"

Fear-fueled frustration was growing by the moment as his mind raced with terrifying scenarios of what could be happening to the man he loved to the depths of his soul. Energy leached off Ztar as his mutant ability responded to the intense emotional state. Gtar-Cro's holo image flickered.

"Yes, my Emperor."

Ztar took a deep breath to steady himself. Archangel needed him to be clear-thinking. "And you will learn who our undeclared opponent is. I want all the records from Hydeera reviewed again. I want to know who that ship rescued from the Etagllot facility. Have your people dig deeper. Re-interrogate those we captured and the ones we rescued." An action plan made him feel more in control – helpless he would not accept.

"Immediately, my Emperor." Gtar-Cro would not question any of Ztar's orders despite the fact they had exhausted all Hydeera leads long ago. Quiet obedience was the best approach at the moment. Gtar-Cro didn't need to be in the Emperor's presence to know the man was holding to control by a thread. The pragmatic, emotionally restrained, hardened warrior that had overthrown a government, declared himself monarch, doubled the size of Turzent Empire mostly through brilliant strategy and military might, and successfully fought a war against the powerful Systems Commonwealth was left nearly shaking and distraught at the thought of one, singular being in possible mortal danger. Archangel. Anything that threatened the winged Human often resulted in Ztar reacting uncharacteristically irrational and unreasonable.

"Were there any other ships? Anything else detected when Archangel was taken?"

"A skimmer craft was detected at his location, and apparently retrieved by the ship. The sensor data is of limited detail. We cannot confirm the movements of any individuals during the incident, only of the crafts due to an interference field."

"More advanced technology to blind us?"

"Or a byproduct of their cloaking technology."

Ztar nodded as he continued to stride back and forth. "I don't have to say to monitor all comm traffic and distress channels. Archangel may be able to send a signal."

"Already being done."

"His PI – we've traced that?"

The general gestured the affirmative. "On Earth at his metropolitan residence."

Ztar pulled to the stop, his face twisting in erupting fury. "By the gods, Gtar-Cro, I thought we had protected him! Yet they simply passed through our defenses as if they did not exist. No one is safe. Everyone's at risk!" He growled as the full implication was beginning to become clear.

"Security is already being tightened around all Court members. This may have nothing to do with the nannite technology or the Earth mutants and something else entirely. We must not lose sight of that possibility." Gtar-Cro cautioned. "Do you wish me to contact Charles Xavier?"

The Emperor considered. "Not at the moment, though I want to know if he is already looking for Archangel. Monitor the X-men and report back. I will decide then how to approach Xavier."

Ztar returned to his chair and they spent the next many minutes detailing actions and scenarios. As he ended the comm, the Emperor buried his face in his hands. 'Not again. Archangel kidnapped for a third time? Insanity!' Yet that was what had happened. All his promises to the man that he'd be safe on Earth…overconfident delusions. What manner of power was he facing? Advanced cloaking technology, mystery ships, weapons they hadn't seen before Hydeera...

"My gods, why are you making my life so difficult? Why impossible challenges? Why are you putting Archangel and my people in such danger?" he prayed his questions. "Who is this new enemy? Tell me!"

He listened with his ears and opened his mind to telepathic communication, hoping for some reply. The room was heavy with silence and only random thoughts of the night staff and dream-speak of the palace's sleeping occupants whispered. With no divine answers forthcoming, Ztar pushed out with his powerful telepathic and empathic abilities in what he knew was a futile attempt to connect with Archangel across the vastness. A deep sigh escaped at the nothingness he found.

Then an unsettling possibility nudged. 'Are we playing a game other than we believe? Are we all being moved like play pieces in someone else's game of sonji-mir?' That would be the ultimate irony – if he and his court were merely pawns in a highly complex plot executed by unknown masters. He shook his head. 'Don't get paranoid, mighty Emperor,' he cautioned himself, 'or you'll find conspiracy and enemies behind even the most innocent of coincidences and events.'

Ztar rose to return to his chambers and the share dire news with the woman he also loved more than life itself.

###

_A/N: Next Chapter – the aftermath of Volu's healing. _


	6. Chapter 5

_A/N: A special welcome to Focus SJS! So glad you have joined us. I believe, my three wonderful reviewers, you all know each other from the previous books. _

_Anyone else reading (and the 'number of visitors' stat tells me there are several of you) is more than welcome to join in on the conversation. Even just a quick word or two in a review would brighten my day. _

_This episode – With Volu's healing behind them, what's next? Warren has questions and a very interesting experience courtesy of Volu._

**Chapter 5**

He was dreaming an impossible blend of Ztar, a living Mi-Lartui, the original X-men, Betsy, and Ettwanae when he realized someone was shaking him.

"Hey, War. You alive, man?"

He bolted upright, nearly knocking the looming stranger aside with one wing in the process. "Who?" he said grabbing the man's upper arm in the fierce grip.

"Whoa, buddy – it's me…Flint!"

Everything came flooding back in a single moment. "Sorry, Flint. Just a little disoriented," he apologized releasing the teen's arm.

"Hey, it's okay. Twae's up and hungry, if you can believe that," Flint snickered while rubbing where bruises would likely form. "She's asking 'bout you."

"And Volu? She's still doing well?"

Flint gave Warren an annoyed look. "Oh, yeah. Back to her uppity self. God, you'd think after all the shit we've been though, she'd appreciate a joke. Just one little joke. That's all it was – swear. But no-o-o… Has to get all bitchy. God, _females!_"

Warren decided he didn't want to know. He had two priorities. One – getting home. Two – his stomach was growling its empty condition. "How long was I out?"

Flint seemed perturbed that Warren didn't ask for the full story. "Earth time or Imperial time – there's a difference, ya know." The reply came with attitude.

"I know. Spent two years on Sat'rey. Imperial time."

"_Only_ 'bout 10 hours. Some of us was gettin' worried, so they made me come check."

"Some of us _were,_" Warren corrected, not really meaning to say it aloud. Improper grammar sometimes grated the wrong way.

Flint rolled his eyes. "Whatever, gramps."

Warren flung aside the blanket and stood, giving the teenager a cold, predatory glare usually reserved for mortal enemies. "You _ever_ call me that again and I won't be responsible for my actions, _kid_," he warned into the stunned face with a spread of the wings for emphasis.

Flint swallowed hard, eyes bulging.

###

At the sight of her soulbound looking well and rested, she nearly dove into his arms as he entered the galley, but held herself in check. She wouldn't frighten him away with overly exuberant greetings. "You're looking better, Warren!" she exclaimed instead.

"_Feeling_ better. You?"

"Much."

Warren surveyed the table. It was a feast. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble. He had toyed with grabbing a quick snack and then figuring out the ship's bathing facilities – he really needed a shower, but with food in the offing, hygiene could wait.

"Ettwanae's idea," Gatebi answered Warren's unspoken question.

Flint stood off in a corner, eyeing Warren with remnants of wariness. "She's already eaten two meals just fixing the food. Like I was telling ya, Gabby, with two bottomless pits aboard, we're gonna need to restock soon before they eat everything we got!"

She flashed a disapproving look, but Flint wasn't sure it was for the bottomless pit remark or being called Gabby. Likely both. He smirked.

Warren didn't want there to be any misunderstandings. "As soon as Volu is able, we're returning to Earth, so there'll be only one bottomless pit for you to feed," he said settling in at the table, silently annoyed that he shared yet another trait with the winged alien. Ettwanae and Gatebi followed suit. Flint wasted no time joining them.

Once the worse of the hunger was sated, Warren started asking his questions. He'd begin with simple inquiries to build a rapport with his hosts before getting to the real issues. "Great meal. Thank you. I don't see any typical kitchen equipment here," he commented looking around. "How do you cook?"

"Bio-warmers. Volu can generate a lot of internal heat," Flint chimed in, hoping his two-edge meaning wasn't lost on his audience. Much to his disappointment, no one rolled their eyes or otherwise indicated that was the case.

"So food all needs to be heat-and-eat ready?"

"Pretty much. Vo's got compartments that work like microwaves on Earth. Pop the food in, she nukes it, we eat." Flint eagerly explained with his mouth full. "Pass the amsu?"

"That is a simplification," Gatebi chimed in, handing Flint the bowl of what looked like a strawberry-kiwi hybrid. "We can prepare quite elaborate meals if we choose to. Sadly, the culinary skills are lacking in all of us."

He felt her eyes on him, almost like a physical touch. Sexual heat began to entwine itself around him, making Warren shift in his chair. Pushing down the erotic images tiptoeing in the recesses of his mind of what she'd be like in bed, he refocused.

"And cold storage?"

"Volu uses the cold of space for the refrigeration compartments," Gatebi explained as she delicately cut something resembling Spam ®.

Warren risked looking at the woman sitting opposite him that his body would be all too happy to couple with right then and there. "How did you three end up together? You mentioned earlier your escape from Hydeera…"

Ettwanae swallowed her food, wiping a napkin across her lips. "Yes, while Imperial troops were raiding the labs, the three of us were being taken to the Etagllot escape shuttles. Once the psy-damps and shields were off-line, Volu came for me." Ettwanae waves toward her friends. "They needed help, so I brought them with me. Something just told me to do it."

"My hot looks – she couldn't leave me behind!" Flint laughed. "Ya know, War, being nabbed by Ettwanae ain't so bad. You should really hang with us for awhile," the teen suggested. "Need another man around here, if ya know what I mean."

Warren had to admit, the kid had an odd appeal about him – an irritating sort of charm. Then he began putting the pieces together. "I remember being told a ship was heading our way during the raid. Everyone thought it was an Etagllot ship. That was Volu?"

"Most likely," Gatebi injected.

"That was indeed me," the ship piped in. "I cannot maintain full phase within a strong gravitational well, such as a planet. My approach was quite…spectacular." Volu's voice carried hints of pride.

"After we was aboard Vo, Twae was freakin'," Flint paused to rub the back of his neck with a slight frown, "screaming about saving your ass and not hurting you. Thought I'd been picked up by some sorta lunatic! Me and Gabby didn't know she was doing her telepathy thing half the time with Vo_lu_" Flint continued with over-emphasis on the second syllable, "and half talking out loud. You shoulda seen her, War. She was nuts!"

Gatebi jumped to Ettwanae's defense. "She was very concerned, Warren, but Flint tends to see things through a unique perspective. Considering all we'd been through, Ettwanae was very much in control."

Warren leaned back. "Okay, so Volu was the ship charging to the rescue. I was unconscious at the time, but Ztar mentioned a concussion blast. Knocked out the Etagllot guards just before they likely would have killed us."

Ettwanae nodded enthusiastically. "That was Volu! She saved you, but we had to leave you behind. Too many Imperial ships and troops."

"It would have been impossible to reach you and I could not further risk our safety no matter how much Ettwanae wanted to meet you." The living ship's voice was laden with regret. "We had to leave."

Mystery solved. It wasn't the Emperor the ship had saved, it was him. He wanted to comm Ztar to share the news, but that would need to wait. "Thank you both for what you did. And thank you for Ztar, as well. If you hadn't intervened, the outcome of the Hydeera raid could have been tragic. The Emperor may have been murdered." Warren was indeed grateful, but it changed little about the current situation. He would shove his desires and emotions aside to get back to Earth. First, though, he had more questions.

Still a touch hungry, Warren took another piece of sweet sea meat as Gatebi called it. According to her, it was from an ocean-living creature that was a staple in many an Alcab diet. The delicate flavor was slightly sweet with notes of tanginess. Texturally, the sweet meat was similar to lobster, but creamier. 'Quite good,' he noted and wondered offhandedly if there was a way to get some delivered to Earth.

"This Source we tapped into, what is it exactly?" Maybe he could finally get some answers about the energy he channeled.

Ettwanae hurriedly chewed. "It's of the goddess Ozshi'wanae. All living beings come from her. We each carry a small part of the goddess within us. When we die, that piece returns to The Source, which she then sends out again, creating a new life."

"Ozshi'wanae is the lifeforce?"

Ettwanae gestured negative. "No, it comes _from_ her. That's how Volu's memory records explain it."

"And what you and I manifested is this lifeforce?"

"Yes. We call it Aru. Eshaaru channel Aru energy. The higher form is called Ura – lifewill."

'Fascinating.' Warren wasn't sure he was buying the goddess part, but he wouldn't discard it out of hand either. "What the difference between lifeforce and lifewill?"

"Aru is present in all living things – sentient and non-sentient. Ura is what creates consciousness and the ability for self-determination – life _will_."

"So lifewill equals self-awareness equals sentiency, right?"

"Yes." She nodded with enthusiasm.

"Another name for lifewill, Warren, is soul. Ura is your soul," Volu added.

"And Ura is bestowed to Ozshi'wanae's favored creations, correct?" Gatebi injected, looking to Ettwanae for confirmation.

"That's our understanding, but her ways are far beyond what we can comprehend."

Warren mixed what he'd just been told with what he already knew of lifeforce patterns. It seemed to fit together nicely. Perhaps his secondary lifeforce pattern the scientist on Fjai told him about was merely his connection to The Source. A possibility. Perhaps anyone who channels Aru has a so-called secondary pattern. He decided to file away the theory and move onto other topics.

"New subject," he warned. "Merryth said you were left in Bhenra's care at a young age if I remember correctly."

"Yes, about age three in standard years. He raised me as his own." Sadness clouded the otherwise bright eyes, and she quickly looked down.

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to bring up painful memories."

Ettwanae took a deep breath and pushed down the pain as Gatebi covered Ettwanae's hand with hers. "No, the memories are wonderful. Bhenra was my Baumpa – my father. I don't remember my real father. Bhenra was all I had. We were very close. I loved him dearly."

"Now you have us," Gatebi offered Ettwanae with a warm smile.

Ettwanae's eyes darted to her two companions. "Yes, now I have a sister, a brother, and a mother. The goddess has blessed me."

"Warning! Love-fest alert!" Flint broke in, obviously uncomfortable with the emotional atmosphere. "Hey, War, how 'bout you? What you got for family types?"

Warren cringed at the familiarity coming through in the nickname. He tolerated only a few close friends calling him War. Flint was not one of them, but he held his tongue. "I'm actually more interested in learning more about the man you say attempted to kidnap me."

The perfect Eshaaru face frowned as Flint jumped in. "That dude is total evil. Rounds people up for those freak labs."

"All we know is he kidnapped _Ettwanae_ for that purpose, Flint. We know little more about him than that," Gatebi corrected.

The teen crossed his arms and scowled at the Alcab. "Well, ya put two 'n two together..." Flint turned to lock eyes with Warren, subtle fear reflected in his green eyes. "He's nobody to mess with, and that's fact. 'Specially with that evil Vo twin."

If Warren was a target of the man, he wanted to know everything the foursome knew. The operative came for him once and Warren had to assume he would again. "Does he have any special abilities?"

"He's telepathic and maybe telekinetic." Ettwanae's frown deepened. "It's possible he uses an image inducer."

"You've see these abilities?"

"Maybe."

Her whole demeanor had closed off – eyes downcast, hands clasped, a withdrawn expression. If her body signals were anything close to Human, she wasn't comfortable talking about her abductor. However, Warren needed information.

"Ettwanae, I know this may be bringing up painful memories, but I need to know what I'm up against. The more I know, the better prepared I'll be if he comes after me again."

"You're safer with us," she said in a near whisper, not bothering to raise her eyes. "Volu can help protect you."

Warren shook his head. "No, I have a life to return to on Earth. A life I enjoy – one I've fought hard for." He'd explain no further; it was none of their business. "When Volu's healed, I'm going back. That makes it all the more important I know what you know about this guy."

She remained quiet for many seconds, then sighed and seemed to collect herself. "As we said before, he works for the Etagllot or may even be Etagllot. He is cold and calculating and very sure of himself. He revealed nothing to me while I was his prisoner. What we know is mostly from what little we've seen and deduced."

"Did he reveal his name?"

"No."

"You said earlier the Shozen were after you when you left Sat'rey – it wasn't actually this guy?"

"No, there were several of the Shozen or their agents after me then. No telepaths or telekinetics in that group. I think if he had been with them, they would have succeeded in capturing me. Baumpa said it was the Shozen, but he didn't say how he knew. He-" she swallowed visibly. "He died before he told me."

"I'm so sorry, Ettwanae," he offered gently. Warren could have asked many more questions about other pursuers, but the Shozen weren't his enemy, at least not that he knew. He did have unanswered questions, though, about the mysterious kidnapper. "How did he acquire an Eshaar'ne?" A wave of her hand he interpreted as not knowing. "Is it unusual for an Eshaar'ne to be partnered with a non-Eshaaru?"

"It is not our way," Volu's voice filled the room, a blend of disbelief and ire in the simple statement.

"She's a rogue," Flint pronounced. "Vo hates her guts. A traitor to their kind. Nasty business, War."

"Is it possible she is being used against her will?" he posed.

"An Eshaar'ne has ways of preventing that. She has chosen her path."

The Eshaar'ne's tone was condemning and did not invite elaboration. Warren decided the reasons didn't matter and let the touchy subject go. "So that's all you have on him, right?"

"That is all," Ettwanae confirmed.

'Not much to work with, but more than I had,' Warren concluded silently. The assailant would be a formidable opponent – telepathic, perhaps telekinetic, and possibly in disguise. 'Powerful combination.' As soon as he returned to Earth, he would inform both Charles and Ztar.

"Thank you for sharing what you know – it helps," he extended, pushing back from the table. He realized in silent relief his libido had gone on siesta at some point in their discussion and he hoped it would actually go comatose for the duration of his stay. If not, the next two days could be very long. "Now, though, I'd like to clean up." He looked to the teen. "Flint, will you show me how the shower works here?"

The teen quickly grinned from ear to ear. "Oh, man, you're gonna love Vo's showers! Come on," Flint prompted, getting up.

Warren was intrigued. The teenager was oddly enthusiastic about bathing.

###

As they entered his on-suite bath, Flint pointed out the wide-open area to one side of the room. Warren marveled at the size, not really having paid much attention when he used the facilities earlier. That so much of the bathroom was dedicated to the shower made complete sense – it was designed for winged beings with plenty of room to splay feathers.

"This is one of those bathrooms with no shower door – all open, everything can get wet, if ya want. Or you can do the dry version. Tried it once, don't recommend it 'cept in emergencies."

"Dry version?"

"Yeah, somethin' like ultrasound, extrasonic – shit, I don't remember what Vo called it, but supposedly ya get clean. I didn't feel so clean, but you don't smell after, that's all I know. But the wet version? Now that's one _hell_ of a shower!" Flint moved around pointing out various protrusions from the otherwise smooth walls. Warren quickly counted fourteen. "These here are like showerheads, water comes at you from all directions, or whichever direction you want. To change location, just move them around anywhere ya want, like this." Flint pushed gently against one of the protrusions and it went with his hand until he stopped pushing. "They go anywhere – no tracks to follow. Cool, huh?"

"Indeed." Warren was impressed.

"It only gets better. To change angle, move it just like a regular showerhead." He grabbed it and changed the angle from down to straight out. "If you want, Vo can move them and hose ya down, but that's kinda creepy in my mind – too much information for her." The teen noted with a visible shiver. "Gabby says I'm being self-conscious. I say an alien sprayin' down my bod with her showerheads wherever _she_ wants is a too weird." Flint glanced around the bathroom. "I've never found a visual sensor in here, but that doesn't mean there isn't one. I had to get over that part even if she does. A man can only go so long without showering." Then the kid got a devilish smirk on his face. "Once you get over that, you can really enjoy yourself in here."

Flint winked, leading Warren to instantly get his drift. Teenage hormones had likely figured out exactly what all could be done in a well-equipped shower. Then he wondered briefly about the anatomical compatibility between Humans and Alcabs and Eshaarus and if Flint was managing to get any action with the either of the females on board. That led to some very dirty thoughts about Ettwanae and he snapped himself back from the precarious edge. 'So much for the siesta.' Flint gave Warren an inquisitive look that told him the teen caught his momentary distraction.

"Temperature control?" Warren asked changing the conversational direction.

Flint leaned against the wall, arms crossed in a confident pose. "Oh, that. Just tell Vo warmer or colder and she'll get it right for ya. Same thing for the force of the water. She can pulsate it, too. Anything can be adjusted. I'm telling ya, man, best freakin' shower in the galaxy!"

"Soap?"

"Built in, just say when to start and stop. But it won't be all lathery like on Earth, more…creamy, I guess. Works just as good, though. Vo makes it herself. Same stuff at the sink for washing your hands."

Warren had to smile – the shower was sounding more and more like a car wash. Then another consideration came to mind. "Laundry? Doesn't do a lot of good to shower and then put on dirty clothes."

Flint walked over to a spot on a wall and waved a hand. A membrane door dilated open. "Just throw 'em in here. By the time you're done in the shower, your clothes are done. That same soundblasting business or whatever cleans 'em. Don't know how it works – don't care. All I know is clothes come out clean."

"How do I dry off? Are there towels?"

"Don't need 'em. Just tell Vo you're ready. Some kinda wave moves over you. She told me once it chases the water away from your body, but doesn't dry out the skin. I think she was talkin' down to me when she said that and I got pissed, so that's all I know. She's refused to explain since saying I wouldn't understand. She can be bitchy like that sometimes."

Living within a ship that can be bitchy didn't sound exactly enjoyable. Warren could image all sorts of ways a sentient vessel could make your life miserable if it so desired. "Anything else I need to know?"

"If you do, ask our master eavesdropper. She'll hear and answer. I'm outta here. Enjoy your shower." Flint was almost out the door when he turned back. "Take advantage of all the side bennies, if you get my meaning. Vo, give him a wash with the works!" Then he laughed and was gone.

"Teenagers!" Warren mumbled to himself as he peeled off the torn clothes that definitely needed washing. Immediately after the door to the 'washing machine' closed, Warren detected a steady hum. Likely ultrasonic cleaning of some sort.

As he stepped into the shower area, his spread his wings to test the width, which he estimated at 12 feet – about four feet shy of his full wingspread. 'Not bad! Bigger than my shower at home even.' The last four feet of spread really wouldn't gain him anything for cleaning purposes, so the shower was perfectly adequate. 'This _is_ going to be a treat,' he agreed with Flint. But while the shower was 12 feet in width, it wasn't that in depth, but still quite roomy at roughly eight feet. Then he realized he forgot to ask how to turn it on, but then there were the ship's ears.

"Volu?"

"Are you ready for cleansing?"

"Yes."

"I will start you out at a bit warmer than your body temperature and we will adjust from there."

After a little fine-tuning, the temperature was perfect. Spray hit him from everywhere as he let Volu position them optimally for his body. As warm water soothed and caressed, he realized how tight his muscles were. Not surprising considering what the past day had put him through. As he let the pulsating spray ease the tension, he wondered how difficult the next couple days would be. Constantly battling his Aru-controlled libido was wearing and any relief he got in the shower would likely be quickly undone if the intense mating urge rose up again.

He sighed deeply to release more stress and out of frustration at situation he found himself in. At least instinct told him Ettwanae and her ship would not hold him against his will. Hopefully, intuition was right.

When he was ready, Volu added the creamy soap. It was like the most luxurious lotion one could imagine, gliding under his hands across his skin like silk. The feel of the soft water beating against his skin, its warmth, soothing sound, and moist air joined to relax mind and body as Warren sank into another plane – almost meditative. Then the creamy feel dissipated to be replaced by a cleansing rinse. He stood there for sometime, letting the water work its magic.

"Warren, spread your wings," the female voice floated to him. With a start, he realized they had dropped and the soap needed to be more thoroughly rinsed away. He spread them high and wide. After a minute, something changed in the water pressure and it began to softly pulsate against his feathers and skin. It felt so sensual, wonderful… He closed his eyes and sighed. This was truly a phenomenal shower.

Then the jets moved slightly and pulsating water moved over his wings and body, slowly edging toward certain erogenous zones. It happened slowly, without him realizing fully. Then water began caressing those special points on the wings that Ztar had massaged with such skill.

"O-oh, g-god!" Warren stammered and his hand reached out for the wall in front of him. Water kept hitting the wing bases and waves of delicious sexual heat flowed through the raceways that ran from the wings to his groin and brain's pleasure center. It was like Ztar in a way – and felt so…incredible. His head whirled as his body eagerly responded.

'What does Volu think she's doing?'

"I will stop if you wish, Warren." The offer sounded far away.

He couldn't bring himself to object. Part of him was offended by her actions, while another part didn't want her to stop. When he didn't answer, water began massaging his groin and growing shaft. He groaned as new waves of bliss washed through him. His knees became shaky and he couldn't quite catch his breath. He wanted to move away from the sexual stimulation – he felt violated, yet not really. More like he was caught masturbating and embarrassed.

"This is a pleasure Eshaar'ne have given Eshaaru since our creation. Your body needs a release. You are under much stress on multiple fronts and this will expel sexual tension. Relax, Warren. Enjoy just as Flint, Gatebi, and Ettwanae do."

Her tone was ethereal, enticing. He was being swept away by carnal pleasures the sensual water was bestowing. His wings spread wider of their own accord and the water hit with increased pulsations to perfect spots. With a loud moan, he neared orgasm. His body was on fire, his groin throbbed as it edger closer to that moment of release. Forehead against the wall, hands spread flat against the smooth surface of the shower, he let the ship do what she wished. And it was rapturous – like nothing he could have imagined water could do. His whole body became hyper-sensitized, feeling every droplet that titillated and every stream that caressed. Breaths coming in gasps and heart pounding, his body thrummed with ecstasy as he came, spilling against the wall. Wave after wave of bliss and release rippled through him until he was fully spent.

Then his knees gave out and he slid to the floor. The water followed him down, but now like gentle rain, slowly dropping in temperature to a tepid level. There he kneeled for a couple minutes as the delicious afterglow faded. He so needed what Volu had provided – sexual release. The only thing lacking was a partner, but it definitely was an effective substitute.

He could have chosen to be outraged, but he sensed no sexual overtones in what the ship had done. Volu likely did exactly as she said – provided a service she was designed to perform. Space can be a very lonely place, especially if a lone or unmated Eshaaru was aboard.

When he felt like moving again, he eased himself off the shower floor. "Volu?"

"Yes, Warren."

"You're one hell of a lover," he said with a lopsided smirk.

Two vigorous flaps shed much of the water from the feathers. Then he stood still as the drying wave moved across him, the water running ahead of it to jump off his body on the opposite side. When he touched his skin, it was completely dry, but supple. Pulling a wing forward, he checked. Also fully dry. He redressed in his freshly laundered clothes that smelled almost as if they'd hung out in the summer breeze. They were still torn, but clean.

"Much better," he remarked to Volu. "Thanks."

"I do my best to ensure the comfort of all within."

Warren half expected the ship to suggest he stay to enjoy those comforts on a regular basis, but she did not. He exited Flint's suite to find the others, feeling renewed with the pent up sexual tension in his body gone – for the moment anyway.

###

_A/N: Okay, I'll admit the shower scene doesn't exactly move the story forward, but it was fun to write. Actually, the idea came to me after watching a home improvement show a while back about fantastical showers. A tongue-in-cheek comment by the host about all that was possible in such a shower got my imagination going and this scene was born. In a way, it does fit into what a fully equipped Eshaar'ne might offer her occupants. And with the current level of unresolved sexual tension aboard Volu, I thought the scene worked well enough to include, but you're the final judges. Love it or hate it, I'm game to hear your thoughts._

_Next chapter teaser: What is happening with Ztar and Gtar-Cro in the desperate search for Warren? And what about Etagllot operative Den-neer? _


	7. Chapter 6

_A/N: Gtar-Cro is busy, Ztar's frustrated, Den-neer is bored, and the light bulb finally comes on for Warren. _

**Chapter 6**

Gtar-Cro's image stood before him. Anyone else would see only a self-assured, hardened general that revealed little he did not intend, but Ztar knew every subtle nuisance of his long-time military intelligence chief's body language and it foreshadowed the news would not be to his liking. "I have little to report, my Emperor. The Hydeera prisoner interrogations are underway and we have a team re-evaluating data collected during the raid, as well as what was obtained from the Etagllot computers, though that is quite limited. We've learned nothing new thus far. However, our data-mining for any public or military reports of unusual ships has uncovered some interesting occurrences."

"Such as…" the Emperor prompted, annoyed he had to do so.

"Nothing I'm prepared to share as yet. We are still collecting and analyzing."

"It's been nearly two days, General, and you have nothing you're prepared to share?" he snarled. Ztar hadn't slept since the news. Helplessness was driving him mad, causing his temper to be short with everyone around him. So much so that Jharda warned him to stay in his office and out of their chambers until he could better manage his foul mood claiming it was making their unborn child restless.

Gtar-Cro shifted his stance to ease slightly toward Ztar. "Patience, my Emperor. Our work continues. The lead to Archangel may come at any moment."

"_Patience?_" he slammed his fist on the desk, rattling its contents. "I have no more patience. In the past two years, Archangel has been taken three times. Incompetence has permitted history to repeat itself yet again and you want me to be _patient_?" he roared. "How many more times will he be endangered, General?"

Gtar-Cro was wounded. The accusation cut to the bone and then plunged to its marrow. He took a moment to collect his thoughts while watching the very angry visage of his ruler. "We are facing a formidable enemy with superior technology. My ability to protect Archangel goes only so far if he is to be allowed freedom of movement." It was truth. His own Turzent ire flared. "If you wish me to guarantee his safety, I _can_ do that with a high degree of certainty, but at what price? Do you wish for Archangel to live in isolation, kept under heavy guard in an impenetrable fortress? If that is your wish, it will be done, but I don't believe it is what you desire. We both know how Archangel would react to the confinement – how most anyone would."

His general's sharp retort took Ztar by surprise. Gtar-Cro rarely spoke in anger to him. Ztar stepped back from his own emotions that had him on the edge of desperation. The General was right. He would not force Archangel or any of his Court to live in fortresses for that would not be living at all. Freedom equaled risk at their level and they had many enemies. Despite all threats, no member of the Royal Court of Ztar had been killed. Close calls, yes, but no court deaths.

Ztar rose to look the representation of the man straight on. "General Gtar-Cro, please accept my apology. I can only blame my sharp tongue on worry over Archangel. Not in the 23 years you have served at my side – through war, conquest, and terrorist threats and eradications – has a single court member died by the hand of an enemy. That is deserving of praise, not ridicule."

Gtar-Cro studied Ztar before speaking. "My Emperor, if at any time you wish me to step down, I will do so gracefully. Until that happens, know that I will do everything within my power to return Archangel safely to Earth."

"There will be no talk of stepping down, old friend. I simply allowed my emotions to run ahead of reason. Earth is as secure as we have capability to make it. Archangel can be…difficult to protect. If he'd accept royal guard protection, your job would be easier, but he tends to be stubborn," Ztar added with a smile in remembrance of their days of butting heads, as the Human called it. Gtar-Cro nodded agreement. "You continue to have my complete confidence and trust. Bring Archangel home, General. Quickly."

"It will be done."

"And Xavier? Is he aware of Archangel's disappearance?"

Gtar-Cro indicated negative with a hand gesture. "There are no indications in their communications or actions that the X-men are aware of the situation. Apparently, Archangel was alone at his mountain residence."

A sigh escaped. "Not surprising – another way he makes our job more challenging. I will contact Xavier shortly. He must be told."

Ztar ended the comm with a heavy heart. Not only had he lashed out at the only man he believed could find Archangel, but that man's report provided little encouragement. Where was Archangel? Who had him? Why? He procrastinated placing the comm call to Xavier. He'd promised the influential Human they would protect Archangel from his enemies. Ztar had failed.

/ _My Archangel!_ / He sent the mental call out with every ounce of psychic and soul strength he possessed, knowing Archangel would never hear. Ztar returned to his chambers where Jharda waited anxiously to hear any news. He'd place the comm to Earth from there.

###

On Volu, Warren jerked and looked at Ettwanae. "Did you say something?"

"No, why?"

Warren shook his head. "Nothing. Just thought I heard my name." Volu was still healing and her occupants were scattered about the ship doing whatever they did to pass the time. Ettwanae and Warren ended up in the kitchen for a snack. Being around her continued to be uncomfortable. His libido just wouldn't give up. The effort to maintain control was wearing both physically and mentally. 'Let's hope Volu is ready to travel soon or…' Then another thought suddenly crossed his mind. 'God, Worthington, you're such an _idiot!_' he chastised himself. "Volu?"

"Yes, Warren."

"Did you or the other ship trip any sensors when you were on Earth?"

"I did, but their sensors should be unclear as to what they detected."

"Shit!" Warren exclaimed.

Ettwanae eyes darted to him. "What's wrong?"

"Ztar – he'll be out of his mind."

"But Volu said-"

"The Hydeera signature – that's what military intelligence labeled the sensor readings they got on Volu at Hydeera. They'll be looking for me. Volu, I need to get a message to the Emperor."

No response. Warren looked to Ettwanae to see if the ship and the Eshaaru were in mental contact. It didn't appear so.

"I am hesitant, Warren. We prefer to remain unknown," the reply finally came.

"I won't reveal anything…simply assure him that I'm okay and will be returning to Earth soon. If I don't report in, he'll turn the Empire upside-down trying to find me. Ztar and General Gtar-Cro will do whatever it takes. Do not underestimate what they are capable of." He hoped that would convince the ship.

Another hesitation. "I will not jeopardize us to make contact with anyone at this time."

"How could Ztar and company possibly find you from a simple transmission? Are you afraid they'll trace the comm?"

"It is not their capabilities that concern me."

Warren instantly understood. "You're concerned about the other Eshaar'ne."

"Yes. My specific method of communication is detectable by another Eshaar'ne. Additionally, she has abilities I do not. She has been augmented. I have observed her use of extraordinary abilities, such as during the attempt on you and when Ettwanae abducted."

Flint meandered in, surveyed the array of snacks, and plunked down at the table.

"The other Eshaar'ne performs feats Volu cannot. She is very dangerous," Ettwanae reinforced, snatching up the last zante just before Flint's fingers grabbed it. She smirked. He glared.

"What can the other one do you can't?"

"She has in-atmosphere cloaking abilities I cannot match. Her weapons are enhanced, as are her shields."

"You keep saying she. How do you know her gender?" Warren asked as an aside as Gatebi strolled in.

"Female Eshaar'ne have orifices males do not."

He rose from the table to get a glass of water. Warren wanted to ask the obvious, but did not. It didn't matter. More pressing matters needed attention.

Flint, though, apparently thought otherwise. "Ya know what they're for…s-e-x. Vo's kind get it on, War, to make little Vos. She doesn't have a mate – explains the orneriness. Sexual frustration they call it. All hot 'n bothered and no prospects," he expounded in obvious glee.

Three things happened simultaneously as Warren watched in amusement. Flint's hand snapped to the back of his neck as he jumped in his chair. "_Oww!_" Gatebi scowled a look that could melt steel. Ettwanae threw her zante, hitting Flint in the chest.

"Hey, I was kidding! Bein' funny, ya know? Humor? Anybody got it 'round here? _Jesus_!"

Unfortunately, Flint's talk of unmet sexual need was all it took to stir up Aru again and flashes of what he'd like to do with Ettwanae flickered through his mind. 'Jesus, is right!' he chided silently in self-disgust. "I need to get a message to Ztar somehow. If his forces are looking for me, that also puts you at risk." He directed that to Ettwanae as he leaned against the counter. "Any ideas?"

Blank faces displayed their lack thereof. Then Gatebi spied what hung from Warren's belt loop. "What's that?" she said pointing at the rectangular device.

Warren looked down. "My cell phone. Why? You want me to phone home?" He smiled at his unintended reference.

Flint lit up. "Hey, E.T. – I get it! Like E.T. phone home." He looked at the two puzzled faces. "It's a movie about a little alien who missed his ride home and got stuck on Earth. E.T. – extra-terrestrial. Used some kid's toy and a record player to call his ship. Brilliant, Gabby! Can we do it?" The teen shot an expectant look around the room.

'How on Earth could she get a phone signal to Earth?' Then he caught himself. Not on Earth and he wouldn't doubt what alien technology was capable of. "Is it possible, Volu? And how would that help us avoid detection?"

"A moment please while I scan the device." While she performed that function, she 'accidentally' began a deep scan of the surrounding area of Warren's body. She jerked mentally and halted before reaching her goal. 'Dear goddess!' Her thoughts raced through the implications. She would not reveal her discovery – it would give her away to Warren. Instead, she refocused on the task before her.

"I can amplify its frequency and send that signal to the interstellar comlink on a naturally occurring subspace carrier wave. The other Eshaar'ne should not detect it as a signal from me, because it is not. The comm system will filter out the carrier as interference leaving your device's signal intact. Of course, I need to preface the frequency with a comlink destination code, but that is possible. The short initial protocol burst will not be easily detectable no matter how sophisticated her sensor array may be. Once within the comlink system, our signal should be translatable into the appropriate encrypted code, then-"

Flint rolled his eyes. "Vo! A simple yes or no."

"My name is Volu." Warren could have sworn he heard the ship sigh. "There is a high probability I can do as Gatebi suggested. The military comsat near Earth will revert the signal back to its original configuration and broadcast the message in your device's native protocols. Warren, if you wish to contact home, I should be able to get a signal through without revealing ourselves to our pursuers."

"You said military comsat – that's because there's no civilian comlink in Earth System, correct?"

"Correct," the living ship confirmed. "Earth is a quarantined planet and only a military presence is permitted."

"And the military comsat will accept a signal from the civilian network?"

"It will if I use military encryption." An air of smugness resonated in the Eshaar'ne's voice.

"Volu, as a member of the Royal Court, I'm not sure I want to know how you came about acquiring military comm codes."

"Then I will not tell you."

"Fair enough, but since you have said codes, I'd rather call Ztar or at least the palace."

"Communication channels to the Emperor are at a security level unmatched by the general military comlink. My capabilities are impressive, but not all-powerful. Turzent military also has extremely advanced signal tracing capabilities, especially surrounding the highest ranking government officials. I do not wish to risk someone locating the sector comm I will use to initiate communication."

Warren wondered how much Volu knew about imperial capabilities, but that was a question for another time. "How about a general comm to say Sarrys Station? That'd work, too. They'd get a message to Ztar or General Gtar-Cro."

"A call to a military station is not wise…" Gatebi injected.

"Warren, I prefer to send a transmission to your homeworld and not to anyone in an imperial position. Fortunately, I secured the Earth comsat destination code when we enter the star system. I am ready to attempt the transmission. Perhaps your friend on Earth will contact the Emperor for you."

Warren considered the pros and cons. It was an acceptable solution. He could accomplish multiple tasks with a single contact. "Very well. I'll place the call to Earth."

"There will be a delay, Warren – it is a limitation in the carrier frequency as it travels between us and the relay station. I will boost your device's signal as best I can within the carrier wave, but some degradation may not be fully cleared by comlink filters. Once within the system, the signal should pass to the receiving device without further delay, assuming it is properly reconstituted to its original signal type and frequency."

"In other words, the comlink will take my phone's signal, massage it to pass through the subspace comlink system, and then return the signal to its original form at the other end?"

"That is a correct summation."

"Rad!" Flint injected with enthusiasm.

"I estimate a three point four second signal hindrance."

"Understood." Warren took out the phone that did just about everything but his laundry, and maybe that was possible with the right app. "Now, if it just survived the past day…" He woke the phone and spoke the auto-dial command to the one number he knew would always be answered. "Xavier."

Volu grabbed the signal, ran it through her communication array, added the necessary protocols, and pushed the odd frequency out within a natural subspace wave to the nearest comlink relay.

Warren waited for what seemed an eternity before he heard a voice that sounded as if it indeed was in another part of the galaxy. "Xavier Institute." Warren didn't recognize the female.

"This is Warren Worthington, can you hear me okay?"

A long pause followed and he feared the woman may hang up thinking no one was on the other end. "Yes, but our connection is bad. I'm having a hard time hearing. Can you call back?"

"No! Don't hang up. Please, get Charles – it's important."

Another long pause. "He is teaching a class and cannot be interrupted. May I take a message?"

"It's an emergency, just tell him Archangel's on the phone."

"Archangel? _The_ Archangel? Oh my god. I'm sorry – I couldn't understand… Mr. Worthington, hold on. I'll 'path him – it's quicker!" the young-sounding, obviously telepathic woman offered hurriedly.

Faster than he would have thought possible, Charles came on the line. "Warren? I'm told there's an emergency. Are you all right?"

"There'll be a nasty delay in my transmission Charles and, yes, I'm okay. At least for now," he said looking at the trio watching him intently.

"Where are you calling from – this connection is degraded."

"Charles, I'm not really sure, but it is _very_ far from home. I'm aboard a space ship."

"_What_? Are you with Ztar? What's going on, Warren?" The worried tones came through the weak connection.

"No, but I'm with people who I believe are new friends. Right now, Charles, I need a favor. I need you to contact Ztar. My departure from Earth likely set off alarms and he'll be looking for me. It's complicated, but I can't contact him directly."

"But my comlink is programmed only for your PI."

"You need to get my PI from the Manhattan penthouse. It should be in my bureau."

"I _knew_ he had a penthouse!" Flint pointed out to the females. Ettwanae gestured him to be quiet.

Warren turned away from his audience and walked out of the room. "Charles, will you please do this? Ztar will be desperate to find me. No telling what he'll do if he thinks I'm in danger."

"Are you?" came the delayed question.

"Not at the moment. I don't believe the people I'm with mean me harm, but the situation is unusual to say the least. I think they're being honest when they say they stopped an Etagllot from kidnapping me outside my aerie. Their ship was damaged in the resulting attack, but we're safe for now and hunkered down making repairs," he explained in the simplest way possible.

"Why not contact Ztar yourself?" Charles wanted to know.

"As I said, it's complicated, but if Ztar and General Gtar-Cro are looking for me, we need to call them off."

"I don't like what I'm hearing, Warren. You're with strangers who want me to call off the people likely looking for you?"

"Charles, please. I'll be back in a day or two. If I'm not, you can call out the cavalry again."

The pause was much longer than three point four seconds. Charles was analyzing.

"Two days, Warren. If you are not at the X-mansion by then, I will contact Ztar and restart the search."

"Thank you, Charles. If the worst should happen, call my attorneys also. Your power of attorney over Worthington Industries is still valid should I be delayed or disappear."

"Who _are_ you with?"

Warren chuckled. "A female captain of unusual origins, her two sidekicks, including a smart-mouth Human teenager, and an amazing ship with attitude, or so I'm told."

"And you're certain you are not in danger."

"Not from this crew," he relayed with reassuring tones. 'In danger of bedding their captain, perhaps,' Warren thought to himself and then stuffed down the mental images that his brain seemed all too happy to entertain.

"I will do as you ask, but in two days, Warren, if you are not standing before me…"

"Understood. Should anything delay me, I will be in contact. Meanwhile, would you kindly notify staff at my estate that I'm taking a short side trip before returning?"

Mission accomplished, Warren re-entered the kitchen area. "Done. My friend on Earth will contact Ztar and convince him to hold off. But Charles is expecting me back in two days – if I'm not, then they'll start looking again. Everyone's clear on that?" Nods and hand gestures indicated understanding. "Ettwanae, you should really consider asking Ztar for assistance in your search and protection from the Etagllot. He'd want to help – he holds reverence for your kind. I trust him. You can trust him." He put the idea out there, but didn't hold out much hope she or Volu would be keen on it. Sure enough, Ettwanae's golden head immediately moved back and forth and her wings pulled in, but it was the ship that spoke.

"I am sorry, Warren, but we cannot risk it. You may trust him, but his history speaks of a man who takes what he wants. His so-called reverence is what frightens me."

Warren leaned against the kitchen counter. What he wouldn't do for a cup of coffee. Mutant healing factor prevented any caffeine withdrawal headaches and physical dependency on the stimulant, but that didn't change the psychological addiction. He really needed a strong cup of steaming Joe. "How so?"

"I do not want us to end up as someone's prized possession."

Warren jerked and his own wings drew close in unconscious shielding. 'Shit, that hits wa-a-ay too close to home!' He shifted uncomfortably. 'Do they know more about me and Ztar than they've let on?' But Ztar was a changed man. "The Emperor would not do that."

"Not even to protect Ettwanae from her enemies? To keep possibly the last of her kind safe?" Volu proposed.

"You mean as in lock her up for her own good?"

"Yes, even if it meant against her will. When it comes to revere icons, history is full of people causing harm while proclaiming just that reasoning."

He had to nod. Volu made a valid point, but she was still wrong about the Turzent. Right? Ztar wouldn't lock Ettwanae or even Volu away for their own protection, would he? Yet if he were them, would risk finding that out knowing Ztar's violent past? "I understand, but it was worth suggesting. Perhaps in the future if you get into a real bind, reconsider asking for his assistance. He really has changed."

Gatebi and Flint had remained surprisingly quiet during the exchange, as had Ettwanae. Warren got the feeling that Volu ran the show more than Ettwanae and the trio looked to her for wisdom and guidance. Whether that was good or bad, he didn't have enough information to judge.

Flint's face suddenly took on a strange expression that Warren couldn't really interpret. He looked like he wanted to ask a question. After a few seconds, the kid seemed to have gotten up his courage.

"Ya know, War, most on Earth are clueless that we're part are of the Empire. Vo dug around, but says the comnet only tells when that happened, not how. Since you and Ztar are tight, maybe you can explain?"

Gatebi and Ettwanae eye's joined Flint's to lock on Warren. 'Oh, this is potentially awkward.' Old feelings of embarrassment stirred; the emotions not caring that he had nothing to be ashamed of. But then again, he needn't share all the sordid details. Besides, they had time to kill.

He settled down at the table and let the story unfold – a sanitized, abridged version of the Empire's acquisition of the Earth System. Tiptoeing around the exact nature of the Accord, he deftly avoided sharing the circumstances of why and how Warren ended up with Ztar. To his relief, any questions the foursome had in that regard, they were too polite to raise.

###

Bae notified Den-neer immediately upon detecting a comlink signal from Earth to the Imperial communications satellite. Origin – the place known as the headquarters of the quasi-military group Archangel belonged to, the X-men.

"It will take me a moment to decode the signal. The comm signal is heavily encrypted."

That did not surprise Den-neer. The PI generating the signal and the receiving comsat were both military issue. A few moments later, voices filled the air – the Eshaaru had succeeded using blended Eshaar'ne and Etagllot decryption technology. The earlier signal they intercepted from the satellite to the X-men's headquarters was all too easy to decipher since the comsat had reconstituted the message into one of Earth's primitive communications modes. They had eavesdropped on Archangel's conversation with the man named Charles and learned the estimated return of the target. All he had to do was wait.

As he listened in on the conversation between the Human and the ruler of the Turzent Empire, Den-neer eased back against the too narrow back of the bridge seat. One day, he may need to request a more comfortable chair.

###

Ztar's heart raced when his PI suddenly signaled an incoming call from Archangel. When Charles Xavier's image greeted him instead, he knew the Human had learned of the disappearance on his own.

"Emperor, greetings. I'm calling you with a message from Warren." Archangel's friend got directly to the point.

Ztar jerked in surprise. "_What_? Where is he? Is he safe?"

"He is well and apparently unharmed."

Relief flooded him with such force that Ztar was nearly dizzy. "By the gods, Xavier, I was frantic, I have no qualms admitting. In fact, I was just preparing to comm you about the situation. Where is he?"

"I don't have a location, but aboard a spaceship with people he is cautiously labeling friendly. He tells me the Etagllot had attempted to abduct him, but the people he's with interceded."

That was a surprise. If he was aboard a ship that prevented an Etagllot kidnapping, was there a second ship involved they hadn't detected? Another possibility – Gtar-Cro had mentioned a skimmer…was the Etagllot attempt ground-based? His thoughts jumped ahead. Archangel was saved once again by the mystery ship. Circumstantially, it all but confirmed that Archangel was the target of the last instant save on Hydeera and not Ztar. Who were these apparent guardians of the Human? First things first, though. "Where are they?"

"He provided no location. According to Warren, the ship was damaged by his would-be abductors and being repaired. It sounded as if they were not underway, but stationary."

"That implies the Etagllot also had a ship. Who are these people and how did they know to come to his rescue? Is he certain it was an attempt by the Etagllot? Are they returning him to Earth or taking him somewhere else? If their ship is damaged, do they need assistance? I have many questions, Charles Xavier."

Charles had to smile internally at the rush of inquiries. It was obvious the man was very worried. Ztar loved Warren deeply, that Charles knew from the intense, telepathic probe he conducted on the Emperor months earlier. "I have no answers except one; Warren claims he will be returned to Earth within two days. Until then, he asks that we halt any searches."

Ztar shook his head. "I don't believe that is wise. What if he has been taken against his will? What if they coerced him into telling you what he did? No, I will continue the search, but at a less frantic level for the moment."

Charles was relieved. "Actually, I was hoping you would say that. I, too, have concerns about these rescuers. If the Etagllot are indeed pursuing Warren, we need to act."

"Agreed. I believed they would not give up their quest to acquire the nannites despite my campaign against them. We may have confirmation that my fear is justified."

Charles nodded. "And if they have the technology to slip through your security net..."

"It could happen again. But someone _did_ set off the planetary alarms. Was it an Etagllot ship or Archangel's alleged rescuers? If two ships, and we detected only one, then I'm gravely concerned about the implications. And what are his rescuer's motives?" He frowned at the questions the entire scenario was raising.

"And if the Etagllot can get to Warren, all of Earth's people, mutants in particular, are in jeopardy."

"As are the rest of the Empire's people." Ztar's frown deepened. "Either we have different factions of Etagllot with similar cloaking technology or we have a new player. If that is the case, I'm even more concerned."

"Better the devil you know than the devil you don't," Charles offered the famous saying.

Ztar nodded. "Or as my people say, you can fight the blade you can see."

"Either way, it appears our task of protecting Warren has become more difficult."

"Unfortunately, I agree with you. I'll do all I can and I know you will as well."

Charles nodded. "Warren is very independent. I wish he'd told me when he returned from Sat'rey. We would have been on guard. Instead, he slipped back to Earth and apparently headed out to his aerie on a whim according to estate staff. Not unlike him, but that kind of behavior makes protecting him more challenging."

Ztar smiled at that. "I'd add stubborn to your behavioral assessment. It does not surprise me he failed to inform you of his arrival. Nonetheless, protect him we must until the Etagllot and whoever else have their eyes on our friend are dealt with."

The next many minutes, Charles and Ztar spent reviewing what they knew and creating a plan of action. And while Charles and the X-men would do everything in their power to safeguard Warren and Earth's mutant population, it fell to the alien to safeguard the planet and star system.

Charles rubbed his temples. Old pain gripped him over what his friend and original X-man had endured at the hands of Apocalypse and the permanent violation Warren endured. The nannites were a constant reminder of those past, dark times, and now they were becoming an increasing menace to Warren's future.

"Damn you, Apocalypse!" he swore aloud to his empty office.

###

Den-neer couldn't help but smile at the Human and Emperor's speculations. Keep them wondering – give nothing away unintentionally; that was his modus operandi.

The possibility the Eshaar'ne was unmoving was of interest. Bae had inflicted substantial damage and it did not surprise him the being was unable to maintain phase. Also likely, the Eshaar'ne had not been able to travel far before stopping. Knowing Archangel intended to return to Earth, Den-neer could simply wait. Yet he was restless. Perhaps a methodical search would help pass the time. Who knows – maybe he would be incredibly fortunate and stumble across the wounded ship.

"Bae, initiate FTL phase, follow their last known trajectory, and begin a standard search pattern. Assume they traveled a maximum of one light year in a linear path for the first sweep."

The ship did not acknowledge, but simply did as ordered. Bae had said little since the forced attack on her offspring. She would likely never forgive him even if the other Eshaar'ne survived. It mattered little as long as she did as commanded.

###

_A/N: Ztar and Charles may still not be happy, but at least the situation has calmed a bit. Now Warren just needs to get back to Earth. _

_Next chapter is super short (for me) with as we eavesdrop on both Ettwanae and Warren's middle of the night contemplations that are mingled with a touch of foreshadowing._


	8. Chapter 7

_A/N: Sorry to be late posting this chapter. The general plan is to upload twice a week, but a health issue took over late last week and disrupted my best intentions. But I'm back at the keyboard now. This chapter is short and I use it to solidify a couple emotional perspectives and key points._

_Late night ruminations are keeping our two central characters sleepless. Just what's going through their minds? Let's find out._

**Chapter 7**

She attempted to sleep, but it stubbornly refused to come. Longings and imaginings of Warren tormented her. If only he was in bed with her. If only their bodies were entwined. He was so close, yet out of reach. She wanted him down to the nucleus of her cells; deeper in fact. Genetics and Aru demanded they mate. Ettwanae wanted to obey the invisible forces. Warren did not. Disobedience was creating a constant physical ache of unmet need. In exasperation, she threw the bedcovers aside and sat up with a groan.

/ _My poor Poda._ /

The nickname floated into her mind. A term of endearment from the ancient language of their people meaning 'special one.' Volu had coined her that early on in their joining and it always swathed her with comforting tenderness.

/ _Why doesn't he want me? He feels what I do, doesn't he?_ /

/ _All the indications say yes._ /

She stood with a deep sigh, wings hanging low reflecting her emotional state. / _Then why is he resisting?_ /

/ _I believe out of fear._ /

/ _Of me?_ / she asked incredulously, giving her wings a quick ruffle to realign feathers.

/ _Of what he may be._ /

/ _He is Eshaaru; I can feel it. Why would that make him afraid?_ / Ettwanae filled a glass with water from the spigot. Talking with Volu was helping distract from the physical discomfort.

/ _Because he was raised as Human. It is his entire identity. Imagine if someone you did not know or had no reason to trust said you were something other than Eshaaru. If you chose to accept that, it would put into question all you believe of yourself…including how you viewed your parents._ /

Ettwanae mulled that over. It _would_ change everything, she realized. Your whole reality would suddenly be in doubt. Then she understood – if someone told her she was of a different race than Eshaaru, not only would she not believe it, but she'd likely be angry and suspicious at the accusation and the reason behind it.

Volu continued when Ettwanae remained quiet. / _From his words, I believe he has heard the idea before in variants. Having someone that so looks like him repeating the same theory must be unsettling._ /

"He is Eshaaru, isn't he?" She asked aloud, sitting back on her bed, sipping the water. Even after two years, sometimes telepathic communication was too much work, especially late at night.

Volu followed suit and activated her audio orifice in Ettwanae's room. "That remains to be confirmed. He forbade any further scans and I have generally honored that request."

Ettwanae caught the qualifier. Eshaar'ne were as close to incapable of lying as a sentient being can be, thus the hedge carried more than the usual weight. "Volu…you have scanned him more, haven't you?" she charged, but not with disapproval. "What did you find?"

"His heritage remains in question without deep scanning. The same genetic sheathing that protects you may indeed be present in him. That would explain why all the scans and tests he mentioned always show Human DNA."

"So you found nothing as yet." The silence that followed set Ettwanae instantly on edge. "Volu, what _did_ you find?"

"Poda, we need to talk."

###

Warren could not get comfortable in the too-firm bed that Flint had kindly allowed him to use for the second night cycle. The teenager was lightly snoring on the floor, but neither of those reasons was what kept Warren awake. Instead, he was trying his darnedest to ignore the incessant impulses running through his mind and body. Runaway thoughts of Ettwanae and everything that had occurred over the past day and a half wouldn't let his brain shutdown. With a deep sigh, he got up, stretched body and wings, then made his way in the near total darkness to the door. It opened silently at his approach.

He briefly spectulated if there was an auto-trigger or if Volu always knew where everyone was and opened the door consciously. Something to ask if he cared enough to know. Tomorrow he'd be home whether they liked it or not. The living ship would deposit him at Xavier's school and that would be the end of this nonsense about being Eshaaru and soulbounds.

'Maybe a midnight snack,' he offered himself. Stepping out of Flint's chambers, he looked down the hall toward her room. Heat trailed through his body and straight to his groin. 'Keep moving, Worthington,' he ordered himself and continued into the galley across the hall from the teen's quarters. As he entered, soft luminescence pushed away the blackness. Again he wondered if Volu was watching his every move. 'Unnerving.' Rummaging through the various containers on the counter, he found a snack he always enjoyed – zante. 'At least the food gods shine upon you, War ol' boy.'

Leaning against the counter, he munched on the sweet biscuit to consider what he'd learned during his rescue/quasi-kidnapping. So much to take in. Eshaaru really existed and cruised around in living ships (or at least one did). Warren channeled what Eshaaru called Aru and a form of that energy, Ura, was apparently dead set on him and Ettwanae ending up in bed. A powerful telepath in another Eshaar'ne was working for the Etagllot and after him. The threat he posed, a telepath/possible telekinetic combination, worried him – a lot. The situation, if true, did not bode well for Warren. Add that the man could slip through Gtar-Cro's best detection technology, and it was more than a touch disturbing.

'Damn nannites! Damn Apocalypse! Damn everyone!' he lashed out at a universe that seemed hell-bent on making his existence difficult. And just when he was finally finding some peace and happiness.

"Why does life always want to dump shit on me?" he asked aloud, then winced remembering Volu could hear him. The room remained quiet. Was she sleeping? Knew it was rhetorical? Allowing him the illusion of privacy? More questions.

Without consent, his mind moved down the hallway to Ettwanae's room and to what he'd learned about the energy he channeled and that the ability was an Eshaaru trait as well. Disturbing. And Eshaaru looked just like him. More disquieting information. Add to that the relentless pull he felt toward her, which was almost frightening in its intensity. What was he to make of it? Was there something to the soulbound business or was she, maybe even unconsciously, exerting mental control over him? The pheromone theory remained a possibility, but since he felt the pull even when she was in another room asleep with door closed, that seemed less likely. Then again, Volu was a closed system; the pheromones could be trapped. But Flint and Gatebi seemed fine. The attraction felt so- so right somehow.

'She's intelligent, beautiful, and incredibly desirable – just what exactly am I fighting so hard against?' The question loomed. The obvious hit squarely. 'An alien who wants you firmly in her bed, just like Ztar did!' Warren growled in self-reply. 'That's you, Worthington, just some people's idea of a fantasy fuck. God, I'm so sick of it!' As harsh as the words were, there was surprising little anger behind them. He just hadn't felt evil intentions from Ettwanae. All he sensed in her was an equally powerful pull to him. She appeared to be as out of control of her libido as he was.

'Is it really the sex you're fighting or where the mounting evidence is pointing?'

Warren sighed, and pushed that idea aside. 'Human. I am Human.' He'd stick to his mantra come hell or high water. 'Back to the sexual attraction business – safer subject,' he steered himself with sarcasm.

'Would it be so bad to give in?' He could think of much worse experiences. Maybe all they needed was one good roll in the hay and then this drive to mate would be over. Animals are like that, and he _was_ a feral as much as he preferred not to fully admit it. Perhaps she was in heat? It would add credence to his pheromone theory. It was as good an explanation as mental control, perhaps even more so. He let the idea settle.

Closing his eyes, imaginings of making love to a fellow winged being formed without conscious directive. What would it be like, to be with someone like himself? Sensually smooth skin. Sleek primary feathers and soft down. Her scent with its hint of animal wildness. Silken hair spread across the pillow like a golden halo. Those clear-blue eyes looking up at him…

Powerful urges pounded through him and he nearly choked on his zante. He slammed headlong into arousal and the impact jarred him to the bare soles of his feet. Lust nearly propelled him down the hall and into her room. Gripping the edge of the counter, he tried to catch his breath and regain control. '_S-shit!_'

He took a deep, deliberate inhale and then let it out slowly, forcing it to be steady, and then repeated the exercise until the instinctual drive eased. "For the love of God, Worthington." He didn't care if Volu heard.

A thought crossed his mind. If Ettwanae was sleeping and he still experienced the urges, he could cross mind control off the list. Yet without verification, he didn't know if she was asleep or not. He shook his head at unresolved issue and pulled his wings tight to his body in a reassuring embrace. As the intense episode passed, he decided to wander the ship. Perhaps moving would help shake off the testosterone flood.

###

_A/N: To make up for the brevity of Chapter 7, the next installment is much longer. I hope to post that chapter very soon in penance for last week's skip. As always, my wonderful readers, your feedback spurs me on – share your thoughts, a quick word of encouragement, or suggestions on what could be improved._


	9. Chapter 8

_A/N: Okay, as promised, here is another installment quickly on the heels of C7 and it's a much longer segment, which I know some of my readers prefer. I lost count of the number of edits this chapter went through, but the time has come to release it. Hope you all find C8 a worthwhile read._

_Our story foundation has been laid. Groundwork is complete. Key characters are all in their assigned places. The balance of the saga springboards from this pivotal chapter. Here we go!_

**Chapter 8**

"You scanned me even though I expressly said no scans," he charged heatedly. He and Ettwanae were alone on the ship's bridge the morning of their scheduled return to Earth. Well, alone except for Volu – hard to escape a ship you're in the belly of.

"It occurred while I scanned your communication device. That is when I found the bionites. I apologize for any inappropriate actions," the guilty party offered as her excuse.

Ettwanae held her breath. Would Volu's confession ruin any chance they had of convincing Warren to stay?

He was livid. Another violation of his person. Warren wasn't going to be fooled into thinking it was unintended as the admission implied. "You would have me believe that your discovery was accidental as a result of scanning my cell phone?"

"Yes."

Of course, that was exactly what she'd like him to believe. He tried again. "Did you scan me intentionally?"

He heard/felt the odd sensation of Volu sighing. "Yes, Warren. I scanned a small portion of your body intentionally."

"To determine if I'm Eshaaru," Warren accused flatly.

"I had hoped to at least learn the probability, but I did not get to that point when I found the infestation."

'Good God, how many more people are going to learn about Apocalypse's handiwork? At this rate, the whole fucking galaxy is going to know!' he steamed silently. "I want you and Ettwanae to forget what you know. I don't care how you make that happen, but I want it done!" He stepped back from his "host." She was too close and it was uncomfortable.

Ettwanae blinked. "How can we do that?"

"Volu's a telepath – figure it out. Mindwipe, selective memory erasure, whatever it takes. I don't want either of you carrying around that information. It's too dangerous. And I want to return to Earth immediately. You sound recovered to me, Volu."

"It doesn't work that way!" Ettwanae retorted sharply, her ire rising at the suggestion. "What is done, is done. I'm sorry we know about the nannites and that you are upset, but we can't just forget."

Warren eyed the alien suspiciously. "Do Gatebi and Flint know as well?"

She swiped a stray, golden lock from her cheek. "Of course not. I wouldn't tell them unless you wanted them to know."

"Apparently, _she_ doesn't hold to the same moral standards," he snapped with a sweep of his arm at the ship.

"I told Ettwanae because they represent a potential danger to her…and the others," the ship explained in tones suggesting the logic of her actions should have been obvious.

Warren wasn't expecting that angle. "What kind of danger?"

"The danger of not knowing what they are capable of, Warren. What exactly _are_ they capable of? Why do you have such advanced technology within you? How did this happen?"

'Damn the whole fucking situation,' he summarized privately. "That's on a need-to-know basis, and you don't." He crossed his arms with a huff. "You are in no danger from the nannites. Are we underway yet for Earth?" His wings twitched in response to his agitation, something that he almost always found annoying.

"Warren, did you want the bionites? Are they of your choosing?"

Touchy subject. "Are you keeping me here against my will?" He would not let them dodge the issue.

"I would not do that, Warren." The ship replied. "However, I require a little more time to fully recover. Phasing to FTL at this time would be unwise."

"I'm not buying it. You're stalling."

"We will return you to Earth when Volu is able. Trust me, Warren." Ettwanae implored.

"Again, we're back to trust. Volu broke that trust. I'm held by strangers after being taken without my consent. Thus far, I've no proof that anything you've told me is true; including that Volu is unable to go to FTL." He leaned forward abruptly, wings rising slightly behind him. "Tell me again why I should trust you?"

"Warren, do you want the nannites removed?"

Volu's question got his full attention. Jerking into a straight-as-a-rod stance, he narrowed his eyes at Ettwanae wishing he could do the same with the Eshaar'ne. "What are you two suggesting?"

Ettwanae eased a half step closer. "Do you want to be rid of them?"

'God, yes, I want to be rid of them! Give nearly anything to be free of Apocalypse's legacy.' But he wouldn't share that just yet. "You can remove them?"

"We cannot, but there are others who perhaps have the knowledge." Volu's reply was entwined with proffered hope.

"Who are these others?"

"Not so much a who as a what," Ettwanae said with another small step toward Warren. When Volu had told her of the bionites within Warren's body, she was horrified. Why were they there? Who was responsible? But they perhaps gave her and Volu a bargaining chip, assuming Warren didn't want the biotechnology infestation. That assumption needed confirmation.

"No more verbal dancing. Just tell me what the hell you're trying to say." The words came out in a snarl. 'God, I hate it when people tiptoe around.'

"A race of beings known as the U'larr. They dwelled within this galaxy for eons. Nearly immortal and of unimaginable intelligent and power. They are the creators of the Eshaaru and Eshaar'ne."

'Creators? Thought they believed Ozshi'wanae created their races.' He'd let details go for now. "More gods?"

Ettwanae shifted nearer to Warren. "No, they were not gods, but they served our goddess. The U'larr left this galaxy long ago."

"They don't sound like 'a what' to me. Explain." He suddenly noticed Ettwanae was much closer and he edged in the opposite direction. He'd not allow manipulated libido to cloud his thinking.

Volu picked up the conversation. "They left behind an immense repository called Etxan'Ir. It contains not only the vast knowledge of the U'larr and the other ancients, but science and philosophy gathered from all the sentient species that followed. The Eshaaru continued to populate Etxan'Ir with information even after the U'larr disappeared. Imagine it, Warren. A library holding knowledge from across time and space. The accumulated technology and wisdom of civilizations that have come and gone through the eons. Within it, there must be knowledge of how to remove the nannites. Ettwanae and I are seeking that library."

Warren's mind went into overdrive with the implications of such a repository. Knowledge is power. Anyone with enough smarts to use even a fraction of the information such a library would contain could rule the galaxy. But was it true?

"If you're seeking it, this Etxan'Ir must be hidden?"

Ettwanae nodded. "Yes. Its location is a secret kept through the millennia by the U'larr and then the Eshaaru."

Warren was confused. "But you're Eshaaru…"

"I am, but I don't know where it is."

Irritation flared again. "Then how the hell do you intend to find it? The galaxy is a big place."

"There are ways." Volu piped in.

Ettwanae pulled her amulet up by its chain. "This can lead the way."

"So why haven't you used it?"

"The amulet is waiting," Volu answered.

Warren was being lead down a path bit by bit and he didn't like the bread-crumb tactic. "Again, just say what you want to say," he demanded.

Ettwanae opened her mouth to speak, but Volu beat her to it. "The amulet contains a great deal of information intended as a guide for those tasked with bringing knowledge to Etxan'Ir. The Eshaaru were created by the U'larr for that purpose, and the Eshaar'ne created as helpers and companions for the Eshaaru. The amulet will reveal its knowledge only to Eshaaru ready to perform their duties. Ettwanae is not yet ready."

"Do I have to ask how Ettwanae becomes ready?" Warren had a sneaky suspicion what the answer would include, but would not jump to conclusions.

"That is a threefold answer. First, she needed to come of age."

"I have," Ettwanae confirmed.

"She had to be joined with an Eshaar'ne."

"Obviously, I did."

"And she needs to be bound."

His instinct was spot on. "As in soulbound." Ettwanae nodded. "And I'm supposedly your soulbound." Another nod. He whirled away and snapped his wings in agitation. They were attempting to manipulate and it riled him. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he steadied himself with a couple deep breaths, then turned sharply back to the alien. "What the fuck are you trying to say? Or is that literally what you're saying needs to happen?"

Ettwanae dropped the amulet back down her front. "Warren, I'm sorry. I understand what we say sounds farfetched, but if we are indeed soulbounds, if we can activate the amulet, we can find Etxan'Ir. When we do, we may be able to remove the nannites – if that's what you want." She wanted to reached out and hold him in her arms to reassure of their good intentions, but she stayed rooted in place. "Do you want to be free of the nannites?"

He refused to answer and fired back his own question. "Why do you want to find the library?"

Ettwanae seemed to shrink at the harshness of his tone. "I- I want to find our people…maybe my parents. Etxan'Ir may tell us where they are."

'Assuming anyone of them are still alive,' he thought cuttingly, while glad he didn't say it aloud. Warren reassessed everything. Is this what the whole soulbound business was about – locating some ancient library so she could find her people? They were trying to use him for their own ends and his wrath grew at the conclusion. Yet like the proverbial carrot, freedom from the nannites dangled.

"You have proof this library exists?" He redirected. "Or are you chasing some legend handed down from generation to generation with little proof it was ever real?"

"My mother and father were gatherers of Etxan'Ir. Is that proof enough?"

"Not necessarily. You said you were left on Sat'rey at age three and haven't seen them since. Where are you getting your information?"

"From the amulet node we've already retrieved – it is my family's memory node. It clearly shows my parents were gatherers."

Ridding himself of the nannites was a powerful enticement. Had Volu telepathically probed him and learned of that desire and now used it to ensnare him? Warren wanted to believe there was hope of freeing himself from the Apocalypse's handiwork, but the scenario they presented was so implausible; almost ludicrous in its twists and turns. Did they really want him for another reason? Yet sometimes the most outrageous explanation is true. Why invent such a cockamamie story; something he'd have a hard time swallowing?

"I don't believe you." He'd see how they handled blunt rejection. "None of it. All bullshit," he denounced, folding his arms across his chest.

"It's true!" Ettwanae pleaded. "I'm telling the truth. Please, believe me."

"Then show me proof," he spread his wings threateningly and locked his eyes to hers with piercing intensity. "Show me why I should believe one word coming out of your mouth – or your Eshaar'ne's for that matter. So far, all I've heard are fantastical stories and excuses."

She felt like crying – the emotions were overwhelming. The man she believed – knew – was her soulbound was keeping his distance in every sense of the phrase. 'What a mess you're making of this, Ettwanae!' she condemned herself. "Warren, I- I don't know what you want to see or hear. What would make you believe me?" she struggled to repress the tears and keep her voice steady.

"Ettwanae, perhaps the amulet can assist," Volu suggested in soft tones.

She looked to him, hope rising in her eyes. Part of him wanted to believe her, to fill those eyes with laughter. Shaking himself mentally, he refocused. "I don't know until I see it."

"It will not be proof that Etxan'Ir exists, Warren. Nor will the memories contained within the node cause you to believe if you choose not do so. But we can offer the captured moments as testament to Ettwanae's parents and what they sacrificed to protect her and fulfill their purpose. Do you wish to see what we have to share?"

Warren considered whether or not it would be a trick performed through advanced alien technology. Still, it may be worth seeing what they were offering as evidence. "I do," he replied, almost daring them to convince him.

Ettwanae walked to the bridge console, removed the amulet, and placed it in an indentation matched perfectly to its shape. She pressed the memory node with one finger and the gem-like device began to glow. Immediately the bridge darkened and they were transported via 3-D holographic imagery to a livingroom-like setting where two adult Eshaaru stood with an infant in the woman's arms. They looked exactly like he and Ettwanae with golden hair, blue eyes, tall and lean, large white wings, and stunningly beautiful.

The child was also winged. 'Ha!' he thought in that instant of realization. 'Another argument in favor of me being Human.' His wings spouted when he was 16 years old. Tucking the observation away, he continued to watch as the mother gently held and cooed to her child, the infant Ettwanae he assumed. The couple was speaking a language he did not understand and wished his embedded translator was turned on. Then something changed and the voices were in Turzent. 'Volu must be translating.'

"How she grows, our little Ettwanae!" the man exclaimed with a huge smile and a brush of his hand over the child's head. "Soon you will be safe, my little one." Young Ettwanae babbled in her mother's arms as her parents looked into each other's eyes.

Then Warren realized he recognized the surroundings. "You are on Volu?" he asked, looking at Ettwanae.

"No," the reply was a whisper. "We're on my parent's ship. Volu's mother – Bae."

Smiles had faded from the faces of the couple, replaced with etchings of pain. "T'Azrued, we should not delay any longer. They are close." Her eyes were brimmed with tears.

The man nodded and pulled the woman and child into a loving embrace. Warren knew instantly he was witnessing a good-bye.

"Be safe, my beloved. I will meet you at Etxan'Ir. Wait for me three standard days, no longer. If I do not arrive by then, I will not be coming to you."

The woman set the infant down on a cradle-like riser, and then turned back to her spouse. "My s-soulbound, vow to m-me you will come," she pleaded in a voice that cracked with emotion and took him into her arms, holding him tightly, wings drawing forward to cocoon them. Her obvious distress tightened Warren's chest in empathy.

"I vow to try with all my strength, but I will not let them have you and Ettwanae. This ends now."

The woman pushed back to look into her husband's face, her shaking hand brushing his cheek. "May Ozshi'wanae be with you and protect you."

"And with you."

Then the man detached himself from his wife and left the room. T'Qilla fell to her knees sobbing, head resting against the cradle holding their child.

The recording faded out. Warren looked over at Ettwanae – tears were streaming down her face. Something very bad was about to happen all those years ago, but what? "Ettwanae, what was going on?"

She cast watery eyes to him. "T-the S-shozen were after them. They were running. My f-father was going to act as a decoy to allow my m-mother and me to escape. H-he never came to Etxan'Ir. Mother waited – she waited so long! But he- he never came."

His heart hurt for Ettwanae. A father sacrificing himself for his family. "I'm sorry," he offered softly and then remained quiet as the Eshaaru struggled to rein in her emotions.

"Warren, the memory clearly refers to Etxan'Ir," Volu's voice was almost jarring as it broke the silence. "It was the place T'Qilla went to wait for T'Azrued – it exists. They were gatherers and knew the place well."

Warren said nothing at first, but let what he saw and heard sink in. While the recording mentioned Etxan'Ir, it proved nothing about what Etxan'Ir contained. "I need to see more before I buy into some vast repository of knowledge."

"Naturally, I did not believe that one memory alone would convince you we speak the truth."

The bridge melted away once again as the new recording began. Suddenly, they were in the galley with T'Qilla and T'Azrued as they ate a meal, seated side by side.

"And so the Tchutchka knowledge base has been uploaded? The data is stable within Etxan'Ir?"

"Yes. Since the last recorded transfer, the Tchut have advanced significantly. It appears our predecessors hadn't visited this world for some time."

"And the artifacts – I hope they prove to be worth the risk."

"They are the age the peddler claimed. Their worth is significant. We should be able to restock after a stop on Gamas I." T'Azrued leaned back from the table and pushed his dish away, apparently done eating though food remained on the plate. "I only wish there was another way. I'm ashamed of what we've become."

A look of concern came over T'Qilla's face. She reached out her hand and placed it over T'Azrued's as her wing extended behind him in a feathery embrace. "We do what we must to survive. All will be well, my soulbound. We must trust in Ozshi'wanae – she will guide and protect us."

As T'Azrued looked into his mate's face, Warren could see him searching the deep-blue eyes. "I trust her wisdom, but there are times when she chooses for us paths we would not choose ourselves. I know that sometimes sacrifices are necessary. Yet we are creatures of self-will. We can choose to do other than what heritage destined for us."

T'Qilla's face suddenly hardened. "I will not accept that. We have served our purpose faithfully. Etxan'Ir must not be abandoned. What it holds is far too precious to risk losing. All that knowledge from so many species – would you have us simply soar away? No, I will not sacrifice what we've spent years rebuilding. We continue, my love. Until breath no longer stirs in our bodies or another generation takes our place, we continue to serve."

"T'Qilla, we are a hunted people. There are few of our kind left. Perhaps those of us that remain need to focus on rebuilding our _race_."

The female looked as if she was going to argue further, but instead her face softened. "If that is your worry, beloved, we can do both – rebuild Etxan'Ir _and_ rebuild our race. We could start now, if you wish," she ended bringing her face close to his and her wing wrapping him even more tightly.

Warren's chest tightened at the tenderness and the love that emanated through the old recording. 'A people perhaps hunted into near extinction?' He looked around for Ettwanae, but she'd left the bridge when he hadn't noticed. 'Too much for her?'

"We can try again, my T'Qilla. Perhaps this time, Ozshi'wanae will bless us," and he took her offered mouth gently and the playback ended.

As the room brightened, Warren did a mental jerk when realized he'd seen T'Azrued's face before. The image of the supposed dying Eshaaru he was shown on Fjai. Then another realization – where the Shozen and the Etagllot one and the same? His blood ran cold.

###

Ettwanae stood just outside the door to the bridge, leaning against Volu's firm/soft wall. Tears she couldn't stop ran down her cheeks – tears she didn't want to stop – for if they one day didn't come at the sight of her parents, she believed that would be the day she'd truly lose them forever.

How can pain and longing go so deep for mother she had only a handful of fragmented memories of? For a father she had no memory of at all? But they were close to her in the memory node. She'd grown to know them through that precious piece of technology. If she and Volu hadn't been able to retrieve it, how different things would be. She shook her head in amazement that they had found it at all. 'Thank you, goddess!' she prayed her gratitude for the hundredth time.

She knew from the date imprint she'd had been conceived about the time of the recording. Ozshi'wanae had answered her parents' prayers. If only things had turned out differently. If only she'd grown up in their loving arms; had known them; been given the chance to tell them how much she loved them. The tears came with renewed enthusiasm. She gripped the place on her chest where the amulet always rested.

Memories captured in the node showed two soulbounds who loved each other with a depth and intensity she believed few people experienced, at least from what she'd seen thus far in her short life. T'Qilla and T'Azrued's devotion was total. Their love was what they were. It was beautiful.

Now she had a chance for that kind of love. Her soulbound was in the next room, but he denied their connection. 'It's not supposed to be like this!' Or that's not the way Volu said it happened when soulbounds met. Yet Volu's memories may not be without fault. Was Ettwanae being foolish in her unquestioning trust of her Eshaar'ne's recall?

Volu had old knowledge – basic technical data transferred from her mother when she was still young, such as the medical memory files and some general racial history. But anything after Volu was joined with her first Other was gone….potentially hundreds or even thousands of years of missing memories. Should Ettwanae be questioning the information Volu retained? Could those memories have been corrupted?

Ettwanae wiped at the tears. 'No, without another source of information, go with Volu's memories and knowledge,' she reassured herself. If she was being led down a fictitious path by a memory-damaged Eshaar'ne, she'd prefer not to know. At least the node proved Etxan'Ir existed.

And now she had a chance for a mate with whom to share the lonely and dangerous search. Gatebi and Flint were steadfast friends, but they weren't Eshaaru. They were wonderful and supportive to the point of risking their lives to help her, but still…they weren't her kind. She needed other Eshaaru. She needed Warren. If only he would accept they were meant to be together.

###

Warren was shaken. Sadness and quiet desperation – that is what he sensed from Ettwanae's parents. These hidden people called Eshaaru were perhaps on the brink of extinction long before Ettwanae was born. What had transpired in the ensuing years? Had the Shozen succeeded in hunting down her parents and any other Eshaaru? Why the genocidal campaign? Was Ettwanae the last of her people?

Add to that the very real possibility that he had seen an image of Ettwanae's father as he lie dying at the hands of the Etagllot years ago. Was the first scene he'd witnessed been right before T'Azrued's capture? The timing would be about right if he estimated Ettwanae's age correctly. Should he tell her? Was he certain enough that the man in the Fjai image was her father? Maybe it was another Eshaaru – maybe they all looked remarkably alike, especially if they were a genetically engineered race. And what of the possibility the Shozen and Etagllot were one and the same? He decided to hold off. He could always tell Ettwanae later.

Then he took a deep breath. Whether or not the Fjai Eshaaru was Ettwanae's father and that the Eshaaru were a dead or dying race had nothing to do with him. He needed to focus on why he was watching this supposed evidence – to learn if there was a chance that a place call Etxan'Ir may be key to purging the nannites.

'What have I seen?' he asked himself. 'Two Eshaaru who mentioned a place holding knowledge from many species, a place they apparently fed information to on a regular basis. A place, though, from the sound of it needed rebuilding. If that's the case, how much knowledge had been lost? And what kind of knowledge are we talking about?'

"Do you wish to see more?" Volu's voice cut into his analysis.

"Do you have any recordings from inside Etxan'Ir?"

"Naturally not. The library is not to be so violated." Her tone was one of indignant disapproval.

"No disrespect intended, Volu."

"I apologize, Warren. Of course, you would not know of such things. What do you need to see?"

What _did_ he need to see? 'Do you want to be convinced?' He did. Warren wanted to believe freedom from Apocalypse's last claim to him was possible. Was there anything they could show him that he couldn't call a trick or a fantasy? Was there any evidence that he wouldn't mistrust? Not really – he had no reason to trust anything about the odd group. 'So where does that leave you, flyboy? What does your gut say?'

Many times in his life, all Warren had to go on were his instincts. Right then, they were telling him Volu and Ettwanae's story was the truth – at least truth as they believed it. "Does the node show anything related to nannite technology being gathered?"

The pause was a little too long for Warren's liking. "Unfortunately, no," Volu replied. "But it does reference extensive biotechnology being gathered."

"Show me."

The bridge transformed once again. Ettwanae's parents were in the storage bay of their ship, looking through various stow tubs.

"Bae, how long until our next opportunity to resupply?" T'Azrued asked as he set an empty tub atop another.

"15 days in Commonwealth standard cycles."

"We may need to resort to monle for some meals." The tone and expression that crossed T'Azrued's face told Warren that prospect was not to the man's liking.

"That would stretch food stores until we reach Fentiq," the female ship confirmed.

Lifting a tub up with ease, T'Qilla nodded as she moved the container to a new location. When it hit the floor with a thud, Warren guessed it had been quite heavy in actuality. "Then that is what we do. Every other meal will be monle."

T'Azrued groaned. "No options?"

T'Qilla laughed. "You will survive, my soulbound! A small sacrifice on our part is worth what we gained. The biotechnology of the Daerje is quite advanced and a worthy addition to Etxan'Ir."

Her mate snorted. "I'm not convinced. The Daerje could have chosen a closer star system to inhabit. Now my stomach pays the price for their decision to alienate themselves from their interstellar neighbors."

T'Qilla's twinkling laughter filled the bay. "Bae warned us the trip was long. You could have agreed to short rations and we'd not be running out of food!"

"T'Qilla is right," the Eshaar'ne interjected with a superior tone. "My calculations clearly showed that without a drop in your consumption rate-"

T'Azrued cut off the ship. "Very well! I admit my guilt," he said with a wave of hands and a spread of wings. "Next time I will be more obedient. This time, I'll pay my penance and eat monle every other meal, all in the name of the Daerje medical and biotech data we bring to Etxan'Ir." He smiled at his wife who had her hands on her slender hips, head cocked in the same way Warren had seen Ettwanae do once before. "It will be a quite an addition to the library, won't it? We performed well."

The female nodded, dropped her hands, and moved gracefully toward her mate. "We performed well indeed. The U'larr would be proud of their avatars." When she reached T'Azrued, T'Qilla brought her lips close to his. "As I am proud of you." The hologram faded as the couple's kiss began.

Warren said nothing as he considered what he was shown.

"That memory entry clearly refers to advanced biotech knowledge. Simply given the number of races mined for data, Warren, we can extrapolate that more than just the Daerje data is available on the subject."

"But you've no proof – no guarantees."

"No. Just as we have no guarantee that Etxan'Ir will tell us where our people might be," Ettwanae countered from behind him as she reentered the bridge. "We are going on hope." The blue eyes were rimmed with red.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded. "It is both painful and comforting to watch the recordings."

Ettwanae had a good point. Several times, Warren had gone only on hope. Sometimes, that's all you have. "If I believe what you showed me, Etxan'Ir exists and is as you've described it. Whether or not it holds knowledge that can rid me of the nannites is unknown. And there's always the chance that even if we gain the know-how, we may have no way of applying it. That concerns me."

"Your concern is valid. We cannot predict the outcome of what we will find."

Ettwanae gave Warren a searching look. "You want to be free of the bionites?"

"I do."

"Then we will find a way," she assured with a slight smile.

'There's always a price, Worthington. You better know what that is before plunging headlong into a decision you may regret.' He pulled his gaze from her. "If Ettwanae and I are able to bond, what happens between us? What am I committing to?" Volu was quiet for several heartbeats. 'What is the alien thinking?'

"If you had reacted as typical under the circumstances of First Meeting, I would tell you that you would be mated for life. But you have not reacted entirely as expected. Therefore, I believe that what happens between you and my Poda will be only as you choose. Your will is strong, Warren. You will make your own decisions regarding Ettwanae."

"Perhaps I didn't react as you expected because I'm not Eshaaru, Volu."

"Perhaps."

The ship didn't sound convinced. Warren considered one more time. It was a huge leap of faith with little concrete evidence supporting a decision to fly off on an interstellar quest. Yet, what did he have to lose? If he trusted Volu and Ettwanae meant him no harm, all he had to lose was a chunk of time. That he'd done before – he'd willingly given Ztar nearly two years of his life and under duress, four years. That turned out well in the end. This time, it would be for himself and possibly finding an answer to a problem that had held him hostage for far too long. Then a potentially discussion-ending thought came to him.

"What is the cost to Ettwanae?" He asked with a glance at the Eshaaru, who was being oddly quiet.

"She also risks much. As Eshaaru, if she is bound to you, she cannot be bound to any other."

"What does that mean?"

"She will never mate with anyone else for as long as you live."

"As long as _I_ live?" That was puzzling.

"The bond is broken only by death."

That price sounded high and threw a new light onto Ettwanae's situation. "The whole issue may be irrelevant anyway. Don't I have to be Eshaaru to bond with her? Won't the amulet know I'm not?"

"The amulet only looks for the sign that Ettwanae has been bound – not with whom. Ura has already determined you are a suitable pairing."

Warren was uncomfortable with Ettwanae's continued silence. "Are you okay with all this?" he asked turning to watch her closely.

"I am."

He sighed. What he picked up from her was hopeful determination. Should he put both of them at risk for his desire to be rid of the nannites? If the bonding worked, when it came time for him to leave, she'd be left alone and unable to take a mate. Was he selfish enough to live with that consequence if her race needed every member of breeding age to do just that? On the other hand, was he selfish enough not to try to help her find Etxan'Ir?

"So when the amulet detects she's bound, then it will reveal the location of Etxan'Ir?"

"Yes, but only after we find the two remaining nodes. The amulet must be whole," Volu answered with hesitancy in the voice.

Warren blinked. "You didn't mention that before." Ire stirred.

"An unintended omission. I apologize."

The ship sounded sincere, but Warren wasn't sure he believed Volu, but chose to drop it. "Why does the amulet need all the nodes?"

"It ensures gatherers are fully prepared and understand all that came before them. It is not a commitment to be undertaken lightly."

"So we need to first become bound and then find the other two nodes before we can do anything about locating Etxan'Ir?"

"Yes." Volu confirmed.

Warren was concerned. This was going to be much more complicated than simply activating the amulet. "And how do we find the nodes? Do you have any idea where they are?"

"Once the amulet senses the bonding, it will help us locate other nodes. Activation comes in stages as each node is added. When the amulet is complete, it will be fully awakened and able to guide us to Etxan'Ir."

"Tell me again what _you_ hope to gain from finding Etxan'Ir?" Warren asked directly of Ettwanae.

"What happened to my people, maybe even my parents. And if any others are alive, I hope Etxan'Ir will help me reach them. It could answer so many questions I don't even know to ask yet. I have to find it, Warren. I need to find my people – I don't want to go on living apart from them." Tears were forming again in her eyes. Ettwanae's demeanor became one of determination and desperate longing. "I will do anything. The alternative is to continue to live isolated and alone. Volu and I need to be with our kind."

"And if the bonding works, you accept the ramifications? You realize the cost when we part company and I return to Earth – that you cannot mate with another?" He looked hard into her eyes. He needed to know she understood and accepted the steep price. Ettwanae was clearly considering her answer as the silence stretched out. 'Good. Don't jump in without weighing all consequences carefully.'

When she finally spoke, her tone was firm. "I accept the ramifications. I understand the risks – we may be bound, we may not find what either of us is looking for, and you will leave me in the end. But if I don't try, Warren, how can I live with that? My amulet is incomplete – I have few options. We've tried to recover the remaining nodes, but are without trails to follow. Even if I find the nodes, the amulet will not activate unless I'm bound. You are my only hope. I will not walk away from this chance no matter what the cost."

Warren locked eyes with Ettwanae. "You are certain."

She raised her chin in a near defiant look. "Yes."

It was then he decided. He'd take the leapt of faith if only to be able to tell himself later he'd left no stone unturned to free himself. "I'm still not sure I believe this will work, primarily because I am Human, not Eshaaru. I'm not even convinced Etxan'Ir is everything you claim, but I am also willing to take a chance. There will be terms and conditions. First and foremost, if we try this and the bonding fails, you will take me home immediately."

"Agreed." Volu answered firmly. Ettwanae nodded.

"By some miracle, should the bonding take and we decide to search for the nodes and Etxan'Ir, anytime I say I want to return to Earth for whatever reason, we do so – no excuses, no delays."

"No delays," the Eshaaru assured, her eyes brightening.

"But before we go anywhere, we make a pit-stop on Earth. I need to arrange for my absence."

"Understood. It will be done."

"Absolutely, Warren," Ettwanae also confirmed with eagerness.

"I don't do well in confinement. That will need to be accommodated."

"Ettwanae is of like need. We stop routinely for everyone's benefit."

"And when I decide to return to Earth _permanently_, there will be no arguments, no attempts to keep me against my will."

"I will not force you to stay, Warren. I vow to you." The words of promise were firm. "Just give us…me…a chance." Ettwanae took a tentative step toward him.

Warren was satisfied and his gut hadn't raised any alarms. Then he wanted to lighten the mood. "One last condition. Do you have any Dison on board?"

Ettwanae tilted her head in a way he hadn't seen before – almost bird-like. "Dison?"

"You know, that sweet, fiery drink that's all the rage in the Empire?"

"I- I don't think so…" The puzzled expression gave his libido a quick yank.

"If it is something you require, Warren, we will obtain it." Volu added.

He smiled one of his best smiles for the beautiful woman in front of him that he'd soon be in bed with. "Let's just say it would make any journey more enjoyable."

Ettwanae's eyes widened and sparkled. "You're staying? You've decided?"

Warren raised his hand in a halt gesture as Ettwanae appeared to be ready to jump into his arms. "Whoa, one step at a time. First, we need to see if the bonding works. Then we talk about staying."

The Eshaaru clasped her hands in delight, wings spreading in obvious elation. "You won't regret it, Warren, I promise you. It will be wonderful! You'll see! We're meant to be together."

Again, her enthusiasm was running ahead, but he'd let her relish the fantasy for a few moments before clipping her wings. For in the end, he was going to be using her for _his_ purposes, just as he'd been used so many times before. Warren, though, would do what others rarely had done for him – he'd tell her that in no uncertain terms. Then if hearts were broken, she could never say he hadn't been clear.

"Ettwanae, I caution you, hold onto your heart. I've been the pawn of too many people over the years in their twisted plots and games. I will not allow that again by you or anyone else. I'm doing this for _me_ and for what _I_ want first and foremost. Consider yourself being used for _my_ purposes as of this moment. I can be an asshole. I can be cruel. When I want something bad enough, I am stubborn and sometimes even ruthless. You may not like me as much as you're fantasizing. If the bonding doesn't trigger the amulet, I will likely decide to stay on Earth." The sharp edge in his voice he hoped cut through whatever visions of a fanciful life together Ettwanae may have been forming. "Do you understand?"

Ettwanae's eyes went wide, but she nodded. And when the obviously protective Volu remained silently, Warren looked for signs that she and Ettwanae were in telepathic communication. What he saw told him they were.

###

Ettwanae was taken aback by the harsh words. Cruel? Ruthless? She'd felt none of that from him. But the warning was callous and cold. Was it true? Was her soulbound not the person she'd imagined?

/ _My Poda, what are you feeling?_ /

/ _That his heart is hard. That it could be how he has resisted first meeting._ /

/ _It may well be. Does that make holding to your decision more difficult or easier? _/

She considered that for a moment. / _Easier, I think. If he is not all I had hoped, any parting will be less painful, at least in some ways._ /

/ _Remember, Ettwanae, whether or not he is Eshaaru, he is of another race – Human – in all ways that matter. His perceptions and motivations are unlike yours. It will be as if you are bound to someone of a another species. Can you accept that? _/

/ _I was raised as something other than what I am. That may help, Volu. Even if it will be difficult, I accept it. What else can I do?_ /

/ _We can always continue to search for Etxan'Ir and our people as we have._ /

/ _With no more leads to follow? We've been trying, Volu, and where has it gotten us? I see no other options before us. Warren represents our only hope. I won't throw this chance to the winds._ /

/ _Then you have decided?_ /

/ _I have, Volu. Actually, my heart did the moment I saw him. Now my mind has also decided. We will attempt the soulbinding._ /

Ettwanae refocused her vision on the man watching her intently; the man she was about to tie her very soul to.

###

Ettwanae's demeanor changed. She suddenly seemed to grow older and wiser before his eyes as she held his gaze. "I understand your words. I have been warned, Warren of Earth. We each search toward our own end, but the path we travel is the same. I accept your conditions. And if we succeed in becoming bound and the amulet recognizes our pairing, here are my conditions. First, you will join us fully committed to our quest and not abandon us lightly. If the journey becomes treacherous, you will stand by us, as we will you. We take care of each other – all five of us. Loyalty and honesty is essential and you will abide by that. I am going to trust you as you will trust me, for if we do not, then suspicion will sabotage us. And when our journey is over, regardless of the outcome, you will return to Earth and I will leave you there, unless our souls tell us both we should remain together. Do you accept _my_ terms?"

Warren was impressed and a bit shamed. While his terms were all about him and hard technicalities, hers involved the soft issues – trust, allegiance, and teamwork. Her terms felt so similar to the code of the X-men, especially all those years ago when Xavier gathered his first five students. Warren decided then and there he was going to like Ettwanae.

He smiled. "I accept your terms, Ettwanae of the Eshaaru."

Returning his smile, she drew close for the first time since their conversation began. "Then we have a pact. Volu, when will you be able to phase?"

"I should rest a few more imperial hours."

Ettwanae's body seemed to relax and open, the wings spreading slightly. "Then we should take the first step in our possible journey together, Warren," she suggested, seductively narrowing the gap between them. Desire flared so suddenly, it swayed him. "When you're ready, Volu, we head to Earth whether or not the bonding happens."

"Yes, Ettwanae."

Her pupils dilated with desire and the blue of her irises deepen. Each subtle movement of her body enticed. Her every curve begged for his hand to follow it. 'Oh, god, Worthington! Should you fight this?' he asked himself. It was his last bit of resistance and questioning. 'Why? What have you got to lose?' Warren took the next step to close the distance between them. 'Not one damn thing,' he answered. As the Eshaaru reached her hand toward him, he took it and felt a tingle pass between them. 'I think this is going to be incredibly good,' he allowed himself in anticipation.

###

_I think the lead-in to the next chapter speaks for itself, but don't get ahead of yourselves. Surprises await._

_P.S. Have I told my wonderful reviewers how much your words of support mean to me? May the gods and goddesses bless you! And if you are a silent reader up until now (and from the visitor counts, there looks to be quite a few), please consider dropping in a thought or two. The rest of us would love to hear from you!_


	10. Chapter 9

_A/N: Passions run wild and all that pent up sexual tension is about to be released…right?_

**Chapter 9**

She led him by the hand inside her chambers, eyes twinkling with excitement and her face flush with desire. He drew her in for a powerful kiss and lust ignited in a brilliant flashover. This time he didn't hold himself in check. This time, he let himself be swept up in the burning passion. This time, he would have her!

Clothes fell to the floor between the kissing and the grabbing and caressing that in no way was gentle. It was a desperate situation. She had to have him. Had to feel him inside her. Ettwanae moaned as wave after wave of frantic need raced through her. Free of all remnants of clothing, she fell backward into the softness of the bed, wings spread wide in invitation. "Goddess, I want you!" she cried out, reaching for him.

She was breathtaking. He couldn't speak; could barely breathe. She was too beautiful. He was atop the heavenly creature in an instant and she grabbed hold with force and pulled him down, fingers curled tightly in his hair. Hungry fire danced between their bodies that only one thing would satisfied. Warren wanted her, all of her, everything she had to offer. Leisurely sensuality would be for another time. He took her mouth in a crushing kiss, entwined tongues, then bit her lip as he broke away. His hands took on a life of their own as they followed the curvy contours of her body. Up her arms, across the shoulders to her graceful neck, and back down again. Another fiery kiss, deeper than the first, and his hand found her breasts. His breath hitched as her leg wrapped around his.

'Oh, my god!' He drew his lips down the slender neck, to her chest, drawing a breast into his mouth, twirled his tongue around the nipple. Ettwanae moaned and shuddered beneath him, the sensation sending his arousal soaring to new heights. Expanding his wings around them like a white canopy isolating them from the universe, he devoured her. She was his – only his. Warren was dizzy from the maelstrom of need and sensation. His heart pounded, threatening to break free from his chest. Not even Ztar worked him up into such a wild frenzy so quickly.

Down her ribs and side, he pressed his palms hard against her, wanting to crawl under the soft skin. Sliding his hands beneath her, he found those spots where feather met flesh and massaged with his thumbs, exactly as Ztar had done with him so many times. Warren was rewarded when Ettwanae arched against his chest and cried out, triggering ripples from his head to his toes.

"Goddess!" Ettwanae was on fire. He was so skilled. Every brush of his lips, caress of his hands, each trailing of fingertips brought delight she hadn't imagined was possible. When he hit a point at the base of her wings, she crashed headlong into ecstasy and trembled with the impact from wing tip to wing tip and all points between. As she reveled in the bliss, he drew his fingers down through her feathers and her body vibrated like a taut, plucked string. It was almost too much; almost painful, yet she wanted more – so much more. "Again!" she choked out.

The sensual feel of feathers sliding between his fingers nearly made him orgasmic. Powerful drive to be inside her nearly overwhelmed him, yet Warren wanted…_needed_ to watch Ettwanae respond to his titillations; to see the beautiful face reflect her rapture. Was this what it had been like for Ztar? To know you were capable of bestowing so much carnal delight in another being? The smell of her, the sight of her – he was transfixed. This wasn't sex, this was something else entirely. In a single encounter, he was losing himself to an alien he barely knew, and he couldn't care less. He moved from the wings to caress her lithe form, to kiss the perfect breasts again, massage them, and then slid his hand down low to where things were heading rapidly. She was more than ready to accept him. 'So quick!' He throbbed in need.

Through the haze of lust, she looked at the man above her. How she'd dreamed of this moment. They were soulbounds and now they would complete the bonding. And it was wondrous! Running her hands over his chest, she relished the firm tone and lean contours. He was more beautiful than she had words to describe. She marveled at the golden hair; the crystalline-blue eyes, their color deeper with desire; ivory skin; and the strength she felt as his muscles worked. She submersed herself in how absolutely and completely right they were together. The goddess had bestowed her blessings in bringing Warren to her. She was his now and forever.

She kissed perfect lips. Warren had a hard heart? How could she have believe that for even an instant? She nipped finely-carved ear. Cruel? She massaged the base of a magnificent wing and he moaned. Not a cruel cell in him. She ran her nails down strong back and across firm buttocks. Ruthless? The man above her? Not possible. She felt herself open to him emotionally and mentally, even as she spread her legs wide. She'd give this man all that she was – body, mind, and spirit. She'd defend him with her life. She'd kill and steal for him. All this she knew without question. They were soulbounds – the actual act was a mere technicality.

She was drawn back to the physical when Warren's fingers went "there." How she wanted him inside her. Ettwanae shuddered, murmured her bliss, and pulled him down for a desperate kiss. Tongues frantically danced and twirled, then he pulled back and nipped at her lip. She tried to take his mouth again, but he had other plans and kissed her cheeks and eyelids, nibbled an earlobe, and worked his way down her neck. When he brushed his lips across the wing arch, a shot of liquid heat ran straight from the wing to her groin. 'Going to melt!' she was convinced. Rising her hips up, she pressed their bodies together more tightly, the sensation of his shaft against her was too much.

"Goddess…please, now!" she gasped, burning and pulsating with longing.

Ettwanae's plea almost took him over the edge. "Not yet," he managed. He wanted to enjoy her just a little longer, stoke the fires just a bit more, but he knew he'd take her soon. A man can only hold off so long.

The universe was distant now. There was only Ettwanae – the rest of existence was an abstraction. Her beneath him; eyes darkened with lust, pupils wide, luring him into their depths. So right. Perfect. Meant to be. Her body entwined with his, desperate for him. He for her. Then awareness nudged – something on a far deeper level was growing…reaching. He didn't fight, but welcomed it with wild abandon.

Need was all. Her need for him to thrust within where no one had been. Her first. Her soulbound. She throbbed painfully for them to join. "_P-please_!" Ettwanae cried out the plea that erupted from her very soul.

'JOIN! BE ONE!' came the command from a nameless place. It would not be denied.

She was completing him. Almost. Nearly so. Just one last thing…one last piece of him to be within her, she within him, before he plunged into her moist depths. It wasn't physical – it was something more him than his body. He had no name for it, nor did he care. He only wanted it to be so. All motion ceased – time stopped. That nameless part of him reached out for the nameless part of her… soul to soul…caressing, entwining. The touch was euphoria.

For an instant.

Then only blinding pain burning to the cores of their existence. They screamed in unison.

###

/ _ETTWANAE!_ / Volu screamed in panic. Her Other's pain plunged through Volu's consciousness like a white-hot dagger. / _Ettwanae – what is happening!_ /

A quick internal sensor scan showed the pair lying huddled together. Bio-sign readings indicated physical shock and distress. There was no one else in the room. Had Warren attacked Ettwanae? No, sensors confirmed both were equally in affected. Volu switched to audio communications.

"Ettwanae, Warren, please respond!" she urged gently as not to startle. No reply.

###

Warren clung to Ettwanae as the debilitating pain faded, distantly hearing the ship's frantic call. 'Dear god, what was that? What happened? Were they attacked?' He was shaking uncontrollably and felt Ettwanae's equal tremors. He looked around but no one had intruded. "Are you okay?" he whispered, struggling to sit up against her clutching embrace; fiery passion extinguished without so much as a glowing ember remaining.

She nodded, her eyes squeezed shut. She didn't want to let him go, but did, dropping her hands and curling into a ball. The tears came, soon followed by racking sobs that erupted from her very soul. Ettwanae covered her face with her hands in despair.

"We're unharmed, Volu." Warren wasn't certain he sounded at all convincing. "Has something happened? Are we under attack?"

'No, Warren, nothing like that. What happened was only between you and Ettwanae."

Assured they were not in danger, Warren watched Ettwanae cry and wanted to do likewise. The physical pain was fading, but a deeper ache hurt more. 'What the hell happened? It had been so wonderful until…' Confusion swirled with the slam-down of what had been euphoria. Had they starting the bonding process and it failed? Was it because he was Human? Had he been rejected as incompatible?

###

Volu was concerned – very concerned. Nothing should have interfered with the bonding. The fact that Ettwanae and Warren experienced the powerful drive to mate confirmed they were soulbounds. Even if he was somehow physically Human, their strong mutual attraction told Volu that his lifeforce was Eshaaru and thus the pairing could be consummated. So why did it fail? Volu was perplexed. Everything she knew about Eshaarus told her Ettwanae and Warren should have bonded. Unless… She scanned Warren deeply checking for the only possible explanation. If she was right, Ettwanae was going to be devastated and Volu was going to be beyond livid.

###

She couldn't speak, it was beyond her will. 'Goddess, why did the bonding fail? He's my soulbound – I _know_ it! All the signs…what I felt… He's the one, I know! Then _w__hy__?_' she prayed for answers. The questions strengthened her sobs. All her imaginings about that special moment when she and her soulbound would unite. It was to be magical, special – a moment she'd always look back on with wonder. Then she saw Warren, touched him, and knew. Her heart had sung and her soul rejoiced. Now in a single, horrifying heartbeat, those dreams were shattered. 'What went wrong?' More gut-wrenching sobs tore from her throat.

###

As Ettwanae's sobbing continued, Warren tried to sort out what occurred. 'It wasn't meant to turn out like this. The bonding was meant to be.' Warren believed with a new certainty he could not explain. He brushed her hair from her tear-soaked face with a trembling hand. "Ettwanae, I'm so sorry. Please don't cry," he tried to soothe.

Had the energy he'd shared so many times with Ztar somehow gone askew? Was there something about the two of them that caused it to backlash? He'd felt something pass between them just before the pain, but it didn't feel the like the channeled energy. Something different? He stuffed the emotions that threatened to swallow him. Pulling her to his chest, he smoothed her hair and stroked the trembling wings as her head rested on his shoulder.

Rocking gently, he fought to calm the whirl of emotions. "Shhh, it's okay. It'll be okay." He believed not a word. Everything had been so perfect. Now there was an ache so deep he hadn't words to describe where it resided. All Warren knew with certainty was that their brief encounter had felt perfect and right; as if he'd been waiting for her all his life. It mattered not that it was illogical and irrational and too good to be true. All he knew is that before the pain struck, he had felt whole to his very soul.

Holding the sobbing young woman in his arms, her radiating emotional pain blended with his own. He wanted to be with her, but that was looking doubtful. 'Screwed over yet again,' he thought bitterly. The weeping eased and she pushed back to look at him. With a shaky hand, she brushed his face, traced his lips.

"It was supposed to be _beautiful._" Her whispery voice was laden with despair and longing. "Our first time – our bonding." Tears sprung up again in the blue orbs and trickled down her cheeks. "Why did this happen?" Her eyes searched his for an answer. He had none to give.

"Because I'm Human? I don't know," he shook his head. "It _was_ beautiful, until… What was the bonding supposed to be like? Tell me."

Just as Ettwanae was about to speak, Volu interrupted, startling both of them.

"Before you answer, Ettwanae, you need to hear what I have to say," Volu declared, anger obvious.

Warren's own ire flared instantly at the obvious breach of privacy. "Do you always eavesdrop on private conversations?" he accused the living ship.

"You have no rights here – no say! You have misrepresented yourself to Ettwanae. I will not tolerate such cruel deceit!"

The voice was cutting and loaded with wrath, leaving Warren stunned. "What the hell are you _talking_ about?" he demanded, pushing further back from Ettwanae, who looked equally confused.

"I am so sorry, Poda," the voice was now tender and loving. "I should have verified his status earlier. Your pain has been compounded by my _respect_ of his privacy."

"What do you mean, Volu?" Ettwanae wiped her eyes and face.

"Exactly my question." Warren added.

A long pause preceded Volu's response. "Poda, this man we hoped was your soulbound is-" she hesitated. "He is already bound to another."

"_What?_" Ettwanae and Warren asked in unison.

"I performed a lifeforce analysis and it revealed the truth. He is bound to another. He cannot be bound to you. That is what happened – the union was halted."

"It _can't_ be! Volu, no!" Ettwanae was in shock. She couldn't think. 'He's already bound to another' echoed in her head with mocking cruelty.

Warren was even more confused. "Volu, you're wrong. I've never met an Eshaaru before!" He got out of bed and hastily pulled on his pants.

"It is as I have said. You are already soulbound to another. You cannot be bound to Ettwanae. How could you be so cruel as to allow her to believe you were free? Did you really think you could pair with Ettwanae? What did you hope to gain?" The voice was venomous in its demands. "How much more have you kept from us?"

Warren shook his head. This was some kind of screwy mistake. "I'm not bound, Volu! I'd know if I was – wouldn't I?" Warren actually thought he felt a shudder run through ship.

"Of course you would know. Do not play us for fools! The bonding process is unmistakable." Disgust. Condemnation.

"Volu's right, Warren, you'd know," Ettwanae chimed in, wiping away the tears. "At least that's what I've learned."

Warren scowled. "Then you know more than me. I don't have the slightest idea what this bonding is supposed to feel like, let alone what the hell just happened."

Ettwanae was torn. Warren seemed truly confused, yet if the Eshaar'ne said he was bound, he was bound. "Volu, tell Warren what the files say about soulbinding." She didn't trust herself to share the details without breaking down again.

"If it pleases _you_, Ettwanae, but it changes nothing." Harshness permeated the alien voice. "During first mating of soulbounds, Ura creates a bond that remains until the death of one of the pair. At the moment of exchange, all physical motion ceases as the soulbounds merge incorporeally. Lifeforce flows from one to the other, entangling and weaving itself through the essence of both. The feeling is euphoric and distinctively different from any sensation ever felt before. The Source will envelope them in its golden radiance as Ura completes the binding. It is only then they will join as one physically. Once the mating is consummated, the glow dissipates and the soulbounds will be physically depleted, but at peace from a knowing that they are complete as a pairing."

His heart sank as Volu spoke. Her description had sent chills to his soul. 'Oh, god. Is it _possible_? It all sounds way too familiar.' Warren sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Ettwanae leaned to look into his face from her perch in the middle of the mattress. "Warren? Tell me what's wrong."

"Volu, how is it that you know I'm already bound?" He swallowed hard. 'Please don't say what I think you're going to say.'

"The sign is undeniable. You carry a second lifeforce pattern – that of your soulbound."

Warren buried his face in his hands. Memories filled him of the intense night Ztar and he shared when they learned Jharda Myrundra may have been killed in the Mon Genesis bombing. Volu's description was so accurate it was almost as if she'd been there. He remembered thinking off and on after that night, how he and Ztar felt connected on a new level. 'God, if true, it explains so much!'

"Ztar," he managed the admission.

Ettwanae blinked. "Emperor Ztar?" Warren nodded. "What about the Emperor?"

"I think he's the one." Warren dropped his hands and looked into the crystalline-blue eyes.

"Not possible," Volu replied firmly. "Only two Eshaaru can be bound. Emperor Ztar is very obviously not Eshaaru."

Warren got up and began to pace Ettwanae's chambers. "Then I have no other possibilities!" He threw up his hands in frustration and confusion. "Ztar and I shared an experience exactly as you described. It was something I'd never experienced before or since."

Volu was silent for many moments. "I will scan your lifeforce patterns more deeply."

She knew Warren had been the Emperor's companion – Volu had told her that's what the comnet labeled him, but she had pushed that aside, telling herself it didn't matter. It wasn't unheard of for Eshaaru to have other bedmates before finding their soulbound – that's what Volu said. She couldn't hold it against Warren – how was he to know she was out there? No, what troubled her was that Ztar and Warren's relationship was strong enough to force an impossible bonding between the two different species. That gave her pause. Did Warren _still_ love Ztar?

She watched him pace as Volu performed her scan. He was obviously upset and confused. What she'd felt while lying beneath him held no hints that he wanted anyone but her. She had been his total focus. Besides, he'd left the ruler over a year ago. You don't normally leave someone you love deeply. And Warren said his life was on Earth – not on Sat'rey…not with the Emperor. All positive signs that his and Ztar's relationship had concluded, regardless of how powerful it once was. She dismissed her concerns. Past is past. Her soul wanted Warren as did her body. She'd make sure both he and Volu knew that.

Ettwanae crawled off the bed and stopped Warren in his tracks. "If you are already bound, I don't care. I love you – I've always loved you." She cradled his face in her hands as the words tumbled out. "We're meant to be together." She extended her wings around him as feelings of desire began to stir once again. "Please stay with me."

He drew her in and nestled his face into the softness of her hair. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea." The words came out as a feeble attempt to share his regret for what he may have unwittingly given to Ztar, but they were enough to pave the way for the soul-deep pain to rise again.

Tears were coming once more and she did nothing to stop them, but sobs did not. "We'll find a way. I vow to you," she promised into his shoulder.

Warren pulled away just enough to look into the determined face. "Does it really matter that I carry a second lifeforce? It was a mistake – I didn't mean for it to happen. Can't we get rid of it?"

Ettwanae studied him. He was so naïve in the ways of the Eshaaru; had so very much to learn. Before Ettwanae could reply, Volu's voice filled her chambers.

"I am almost without words. This should not be possible."

"What?" Ettwanae urged.

"The secondary lifeforce pattern is _not_ Eshaaru. The species marker is Turzent."

"Fuck!" Warren swore breaking away from Ettwanae.

"Volu, how is that _possible_?"

"It would not be possible except for one incomprehensible fact. Warren, your lifeforce pattern has no species marker. That cannot be."

Warren hadn't a clue as to what she was talking about. "What's a species marker?"

"Every sentient being carries a species indicator as part of their lifeforce pattern. That marker uniquely identifies the individual as a member of his or her race. It is not possible to be without the indicator – it is inherent to energy pattern."

"If what you say is correct, apparently it _is_ possible. And because I have no species indicator, I was able to be bound to Ztar?" He took the leap of logic.

"That is the only explanation I have."

"You're certain everyone has this marker?"

"Yes, Warren. My knowledge of life energy patterns is extensive as is my ability to detect and decipher them – superior to the technology and knowledge of the current known races." Volu's tone carried with a air of smugness.

"Yet you say I have no such marker. Did I ever have it or did I lose it?" Apocalypse's manipulation of his DNA and impregnation with the nannites came to mind. Had the super-mutant needed to remove his marker for some unknown reason? Was that even possible?

There was silence for several heartbeats. "Even with my advanced knowledge, I can offer no theories."

"So what does all this mean?" He wanted to know the bottom line.

"My hypothesis is that you were able to bond with a Turzent because you are really of no species as far as Ura is concerned – a neutral entity. It also means that technically you are not Eshaaru." Volu paused and seemed to sigh. "Poda…you and Warren cannot be bound. His secondary pattern will prevent it," she explained gently. "We cannot change that. You will not be able to consummate the relationship. What happened today will happen each time you try."

His blood boiled with Volu's words. "But that's not right! I didn't mean to bond to Ztar."

Ettwanae looked pale and so full of pain. Warren reached out and pulled her in. Anger filled him at the injustice. Just when he'd found someone who felt so perfect. Yet his rational mind questioned the suddenness of those feelings. 'It's just lust and sex talking,' it pointed out. 'You're being tricked.' He smoothed her hair and took in the wonderful smell of her with a shaky breath. 'More than that,' he countered himself. 'Not trickery. Something truly beautiful nearly happened. I want what we almost had!' his heart and soul proclaimed. She and he were intended for each other. End of argument.

"If what you say is true, the bonding you share with Ztar was accidental – a false bond, but it does not change the situation. Ura bindings are permanent until the death. When Ztar dies, then his pattern will be released from you and you will be free to bond with another, but not until then – assuming you survive his dying."

That gave Warren pause. "What do you mean, if I survive his dying?"

"Some Eshaaru cannot overcome the death of their soulbound and die from the loss."

The situation was becoming more hopeless with each revelation. "They die of a broken heart?"

"More akin to a shattered soul."

Ettwanae placed a hand on Warren's arm. "Not you, though. This is a false bond. Right, Volu?" Her question more of a plea.

"One can hope, Poda."

"So Ztar must die before we can be together? I won't accept that! There must be another way," he raged at no one and everyone. 'Just another example of life dumping its shit on you, Worthington. Another way the universe has screwed you over!' He wanted to attack someone, anything for the cruel injustice.

"Maybe we can be together but not bond." Ettwanae was grasping. "Volu, is that possible? Can we be a pairing without the bonding?"

"I'm sorry, Ettwanae. You are soulbounds. Ura will seek to bind you together every time you attempt first mating and then reject Warren every time. That is the way of your kind. It is not a process you can control no matter how strong your will. My Poda…" the alien that held them within her protective womb sounded on the verge of tears. "Remaining together will be constant torment. Aru will continue to demand that you mate as it has since Warren joined us. The longing will be unrelenting and eat at your soul. It is better you part."

"_No-o-o_!" Ettwanae cried in anguish and pushed herself out of Warren's arms. "Volu, please, there must be a way. I _beg_ you. We are soulbounds…there is no one else for me. You are condemning us to be alone forever!" she decried the injustice of the verdict Volu doled out.

Warren sat, all strength left him. Ettwanae was at his feet instantly, kneeling on the floor. "We must try. We must! Etxan'Ir will know a way. We will ask it how to break your false bond."

He took Ettwanae's delicate hands into his and squeezed tightly. She was so perfect for him, but once again, life was giving him the shaft. "But how do we find it? The amulet will not activate-" His voice cracked and he swallowed against the tightness in his throat. "It would have been better if we had never met, Ettwanae. I'm sorry beyond words. Please forgive me…" No more words would come. Every cell in his body wanted the woman kneeling before him; to take her into his arms and his bed and join with her, but the intense pain of rejection was still fresh. Sobs of despair pounded his chest to get out, but he held them back for her sake.

"Stay with me. I don't care if we can't mate. Just don't go. I'll endure the torment and any other price to be paid. I'll do whatever it takes to free you." Her soulful appeal tore at his heart while his soul riled in defiance with hers. He gazed deeply into the eyes upturned in desperation. To hell with what's possible and what's not. Bonds be damn. Where's there life, there's hope – he'd always believed that. Warren would not accept the situation was incurable. Maybe they _could_ find a way to break his bond with Ztar.

"Volu, Etxan'Ir supposedly contains the knowledge of the U'larr, right?"

"That is what our history tells us."

"Since they created Eshaarus, it seems reasonable that if there's a way to break a bond, Etxan'Ir contains that knowledge. The quest becomes three-fold. Find the Eshaaru people, a cure for the nannites, and break the bond with Ztar."

Ettwanae smiled past her pain and squeezed Warren's hand back. "We'll do it! We'll find a way."

"Do not build false hopes, my Poda. Warren's bonding may be the first of its kind. There may be no answers out there to find."

"Or _all_ the answers may be out there," she countered, refusing to accept anything else.

Renewed hope shone in her eyes and it touched his heart while passionate yearnings stirred the rest of him. The question was there, too – will you come still with me? He wanted to say yes, yet hesitated. Despite his desire to be with Ettwanae, he needed to step back and re-evaluate. The failed bonding meant the amulet would not guide them, making the search for Etxan'Ir immensely more difficult and take untold time. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt his one, slim chance to be free of the nannites slip away. Without something to lead them, he put the odds of finding the hidden repository somewhere between nil and zero. 'Be sensible, Worthington, the situation is hopeless. Don't drag things out any longer.'

"Perhaps out there, but beyond reach." He reopened his eyes and looked into the beautiful, perfect face. "We should let Gatebi and Flint know things didn't work out."

Ettwanae's face fell and his heart did likewise. She stood mutely and entered her bathroom, the door dilating closed behind her.

'Always remember,' Xavier's words whispered to him across space and time, 'where there's life, there's hope.'

"Hope, yes. But through Ettwanae?" he asked into the still silence. "Apparently not."

###

_A/N: Warren just doesn't get a break, does he? If you are interested, the scene where Ztar and Warren bonded is in Chapter Two of "Circle Complete." Obvious warning, though – it is a slash scene so don't go there if that will bother you._

_Next chapter is short but tense (I hope). Meanwhile, please share your reactions to the failed bonding scene and how you feel about the immediate aftermath. Your reviews keep me at the keyboard! _


	11. Chapter 10

_A/N: Mid week post time already! Well, I changed my mind – author's prerogative, right? This was going to be a very short posting, but when I stepped back from the next couple chapters, I realized they needed to be together in a single segment. Once I did that, the breakpoint seemed much more natural. And so, instead of a three-pager, we have seven. _

_Anger, confusion, pain, determination, hope, selflessness all collide in the emotional aftermath of the failed bonding attempt. _

**Chapter 10**

Volu had summoned Gatebi and Flint to the gathering room once Ettwanae had collected herself. It reminded Warren of an Earth-style family room – plenty of places to sit and relax, with various sized chairs and one long couch that were molded extrusions of Volu's bulkhead. Although the furnishings looked firm, as soon as one sat down, their softness welcomed you; the supple leather-like texture of Volu's interior "skin" was sensual to the touch. But no matter how soft the setting, Warren suspected the news would still hit hard.

Ettwanae and Warren took separate chairs as close proximity encouraged uncomfortable sensations. Flint and Gatebi sat side-by-side on the long lounger that protruded from the opposite wall, both faces filled with anxiety.

'They know something is wrong,' Warren thought to himself, studying their expressions. He'd let Ettwanae break the news as it wasn't his place – these were her friends, not his. He turned his attention to Ettwanae. Her eyes glistened as they moved from Gatebi to Flint.

"My friends," she began in a tight voice, "the bonding failed."

Gatebi and Flint exchanged perplexed looks.

"Failed?" Flint questioned. "So it's not happily ever after? But I thought-"

"You are not soulbounds?" Gatebi interrupted, but gently, her eyes fixed on Ettwanae.

Ettwanae broke the gaze and looked down. "We are, but there are…complications."

Flint took on a posture and expression that indicated he was prepared to be angry. "What the fuck do you mean by complications?" He looked hard at his friend. "Did this dude shoot you down, Twae? Is War not gonna help us?"

"No, Flint. We tried. It isn't meant to be right now."

"What ya mean, _right now_?" The teen waved his hands in confusion. "I don't get it, Twae. You two were all over each other – that means your soulbounds – meant for each other and all that shit. We need ya to be bound for the amulet to work, but now there's _complications_ and it's a no-go? What the hell?"

Gatebi rested her hand on Flint's forearm in a motherly gesture to quiet his outburst. He jerked his arm away. "Don't!" He gave a quick glare to the Alcab before turning again to Ettwanae. "We was nearly killed savin' this guy from them and it was for nothing?"

"Flint, the reason we came looking for Warren wasn't because I thought he was my soulbound. That was unexpected."

"Yeah, so it was bonus, but it meant everythin' was gonna get easier, right? So what the hell happened?"

Warren knew Flint wasn't going to let it go. "Flint, it's my fault. I'm not able to bond with Ettwanae."

Flint shook his head in confusion. "So you're _not_ soulbounds."

"We are, Flint, but the bonding is…blocked." Ettwanae replied, obviously attempting to spare Warren.

Eyebrows raised, Flint looked to Warren. "Cuz you're Human?"

"No. It's more complicated," was all Warren gave him. He didn't want to go into the details of his relationship with Ztar.

"No one's telling, is that it? After all we've been through together?" The teen's eyes burned into Ettwanae's. "So what the fuck we suppose to do now?"

"We continue to search as we have been, Flint. We will find the right clues if we don't give up," Gatebi encouraged, though her face did not reflect confidence.

Flint stood in a flare of anger and turned sharply to the Alcab. "Like we've been doin'? We got nothin', Gabby! It's been how long since we snatched the node? A year? Dead-ends everywhere! We haven't found the other nodes, no other Eshaaru…we got nothing! Nadda, zip, zero. Then he comes along," Flint gestured sharply toward Warren. "Finally, we get a break thinkin' Twae can get the amulet working a little and we gotta chance. Then what? Mysterious c_omplications?_" Flint stomped toward the door. "And you say, don't give up. Well, I've had it. I'm done. This whole searchin'-for-Eshaaru business ain't even my problem – nothin' to do with me. I risked my ass more than once for _what_? We're not gonna find any Eshaaru or that damn library or any more of the fuckin' nodes. It's all _bullshit_!" The teen stormed out leaving stunned silence in his wake.

Ettwanae was near tears and Gatebi sat visibly shaken. Warren swallowed hard at the pain and frustration expelled in Flint's outburst. Likely, he spoke what the others were unwilling to verbalize. What could Warren say? The odd, little assemblage had obviously pinned much hope on the bonding. In their eyes, he failed them.

Gatebi looked at Warren. "He believed things would become easier. That if the two of you even partially activated the amulet, there was hope." She rose, walked to Ettwanae and knelt beside her, taking a hand into hers. "He's disappointed, but he'll stay. I'll talk with him."

"Thank you," Ettwanae whispered.

"What do we do now?"

Ettwanae turned to Warren with Gatebi's question. Her expression asked the question she did not. Will you stay? Warren couldn't answer; not yet. He needed time to think. The hesitation made the air thick.

The Eshaaru turned back to the Alcab. "We haven't decided."

Gatebi's eyes flickered between Warren and Ettwanae, but she did not force the issue. "It would help to know why the bonding failed. You say you are soulbounds…the failure makes no sense."

Ettwanae looked to him. Warren changed his mind decided they deserved to know the essence, if not the details, of the failure. "I'm already bound to another, Gatebi. Until that bond is broken, Ettwanae and I cannot be."

Gatebi's eyes widened, flickered with silent emotion, then moved to her friend's face. "I hurt for you, Ettwanae," she offered so softly it was barely audible. Rising, Gatebi released Ettwanae's hand. "I'll be with Flint," she said looking at Warren with a hardened face before stepping out the door.

He wanted to explain and dispel the condemnation he saw, but did not call her back.

"I'm going to my room to rest, Warren." Ettwanae stood without looking at him. "We'll talk later."

Warren was suddenly alone in the emotion-laden room. Even Volu's constant presence seemed to have abandoned him.

###

Ettwanae curled into a ball on her bed against the anguish. She'd lied about wanting to rest. She didn't need sleep – she needed to get away from Warren. Longing and need clawed at her insides. It was too intense, too painful. What she needed was distance between her and her soulbound; a physical separation to dull the pain of being near him, yet being forever out of reach. Fate had cruelly thrown up a barrier between them they could not breach. "_Why_, Goddess?" she demanded, sobs threatening to explode. "Just tell me why!" Her voice would have reverberated throughout the bedchamber if not for the absorptive nature of the organic ship.

When the only response was silence, she curled tighter. She wanted to cry and scream until the pain was expelled, but she knew it would not. 'I won't cry, I won't.' Ettwanae held to self-control by a thread. Volu was leaving her alone. That was good. This was her pain; her despair to bear.

And so she lay there, letting thoughts flow. While Warren had asked questions as if he planned to join her despite the failure, he hadn't said he would stay. "…tell them things hadn't worked out" – the words had cut quick and deep. And then there was his silence when Gatebi asked her question. Who could blame him if he decided to return to his home? The picture Volu painted was one of a misery if they remained together. She wanted him to stay, but that was selfish. If he stayed, could she bear watching his pain? Could she put him through that? At least if they parted, the anguish would lessen to a dull ache, and as time passed, it would fade altogether.

'I need him, Goddess. Please, _please_ help us find a way. I'm begging you,' she prayed with every fiber of her being. 'I've lost so much already…mother and father, my people, Bhenra, my Sat'rey friends. Isn't that enough?' She drew the bed linens to her chest in a desperate, surrogate hug. 'I can't lose much more!'

She listened quietly hoping against hope that she'd hear Ozshi'wanae. Only the sound of her own breaths came. Was the Goddess that cruel? So detached and uninvolved she did not even bother with a response? Was it possible she was mocking Ettwanae with her silence?

Anger suddenly swept through her like a firestorm and she sat up abruptly. "You're a lie, Ozshi'wanae! A fable passed down from generation to generation. Nothing more than a child's story to comfort little ones in the night!" she cried out in wrath. "If you were real, you wouldn't allow all this pain. A true goddess would not treat her children like this. She'd be loving and caring. I don't believe in you, do you hear me! I'm turning my back on y-you as you have on m-me!" Now the sobs were breaking free from her chest. "I- I _hate_ you! Just when I found som-someone to love…one of my- my people…my s-soulb-bound..." Then no more words could escape pass the sobs. She gave in to them and collapsed on the bed, wings in a tight wrap over her body.

She cried for her Baumpa, her parents, her people, herself. So lost and alone… The pain was piercing and to her core. Tears fell over being hunted, being perhaps one of the last of her kind. Despair poured into the blanket she had in a strangle hold. She imagined the wrap of her wings were her mother's arms. More sobs for the life with her family and with her Baumpa stolen by the Shozen. How she hated them!

###

As he sat alone, Warren decided he was grateful the trio left. It gave him a chance to clear his head. Decisions were needed. Moving to the lounger, he pulled his legs up and wrapped them with his arms, chin resting on knees, and drew the wings around himself. Warren sighed deeply within the white cocoon that had been his private refuge for nearly as long as he'd had wings.

The failure hurt. It hurt much more than he would have expected. Yes, he was disappointed the one supposed key to locating the ancient library was denied them and he'd let unintentionally everyone down, but it was a different emotional pain that was unexpected…the probability of losing Ettwanae. She had him in a tightening grip. What surprised Warren was he had little desire to fight it. He _wanted_ to be in her grip. So much so, it nearly frightened him – emphasis on nearly. More accurately, he felt awed rather than frightened. Taken aback by the intensity of the feelings? Yes. Fearful of it? No.

'If this is some sort of mind control or pheromone influence, I'm impressed.' As much as his rational brain said either or both was a possibility, he crossed them off the list. No, something else was happening, something far more profound. Some deep part of Warren wanted the beautiful alien woman, maybe even needed her. Perhaps it _was_ only lust talking, but he would like to find out. He'd like to have known what the bonding felt like, because what had preceded the attempt was amazing. But once again, life threw up a roadblock.

Ztar. Warren was bound to him? He carried a piece of the man's lifeforce with him? That had been shocking news, but explained the secondary pattern Fjai discovered. His mind slid back to things Ztar had said over the years they were together – that Warren was a _need_, was in his soul. Ztar's overwhelming longing transcended carnal desires. It was as if Ztar wanted to merge with Warren – to be joined. That intense hunger had held the Turzent in its powerful clutches for most of the six years they were together. Had Ztar's intense need joined with the psychic melding that fateful night to somehow forge the impossible? Did Ztar have a second pattern as well? Should he tell Ztar…ask him to be scanned? Did it matter if Ztar did? It was probably irrelevant for the Turzent.

Warren closed his eyes against the cascading questions. 'Is this the whole explanation to why I grew so attached to Ztar despite being straight?' Were all his tender feelings toward the man simply the lifeforce business? Was that what made sex with Ztar so incredible? Is that why in the hard month following his departure from Sat'rey Warren felt like there was a hole in his soul? Why the separation felt almost like a fierce drug withdrawal? Why he craved the Turzent's touch…the reason Warren had curled up in emotional agony on the floor from the longing?

'God, it all makes so much sense now!' he grimaced.

And he'd learned more disturbing information. 'When one of a soulbound pair dies, sometimes the other doesn't survive. Is it possible my leaving Sat'rey a year ago was similar enough to a soulbound death to cause that same sort of pain? If mere separation nearly turned me into basket case, what would happen if Ztar actually died? And what will happen to Ztar if I die?' He squeezed the wings tight in a quick, feathered hug. 'You'll survive, War. You're tough – so is Ztar.' He rubbed his eyes and opened the isolating cocoon. 'Nothing to be done about it. Other issues to deal with at the moment.'

Leaning back into the soft lounger, he sighed. Once again, he was facing a difficult, potentially life-altering decision. He was torn despite what he told Ettwanae he would do if the bonding failed. His heart, maybe his very soul, said 'stay,' but his head argued how foolish and rash that would be. A decision was needed by the time Volu was fit to travel. He would not drag the situation out with indecisiveness.

'Let's step back and try look at things with some semblance of detachment, Worthington. First, the failed bonding changed everything and changed nothing. Changed the potential relationship with Ettwanae and changed nothing about my desire to get rid of the nannites. It all boils down to a two-prong question – what to do about Ettwanae and whether or not to pursue a miracle cure for the nannites.'

Prong one – Ettwanae. He wanted to be with her. It was illogical, rash, and irresponsible. It was perfect, right, and meant to be. His brain and heart collided. He focused inward, listening, opening himself to whatever his inner voice may have to say. 'You want her. Don't care why or how,' his soul murmured and he sighed in acceptance feelings that couldn't care less about logic or sensibilities.

He reached out to the heavens, the universe, the hand of fate…whatever might be listening. 'Why have you once again made things difficult? Why throw up a barrier? Am I to turn away?' He paused in hope a higher power may answer. 'I don't _want_ to turn away. Is that my answer? If it is, why do I always have to fight so hard for what I want? _Why?_' he demanded. Only stillness replied.

With no divine revelations forthcoming, Warren needed to make his own decision. 'You know what you want, flyboy, you want Ettwanae in your life. I want her and I to become us, or at least a chance to see if we can,' he summed up. 'But she needs to find her people. If you want to be together, it will have to be out here, not on Earth. At least for a while.' Yet joining Ettwanae in her quest required putting life on Earth on hold – again; ironically, with another alien. 'What is it about you and repeating themes, Worthington?'

A rush of logical, pragmatic arguments against pursuing a relationship with the alien woman hit him. Foolish. Illogical. You have responsibilities on Earth. She's not Human. In the end, he sighed. 'Don't let your heart rule your head, War ol' boy. Focus on your goal – getting rid of the nannites. If a relationship with Ettwanae happens, it'll be bonus,' he finally concluded in a compromise that seemed acceptable from all perspectives.

'Perfect lead-in to Prong two – the nannites.' Being free of the last remnant of Apocalypse was powerful enticement. What would life be like not living under that cloud? He closed his eyes and imagined not worrying about them reactivating; not living with the uncertainty of what they might do to keep their host alive; not fearing the nannites may somehow transmit to another person or spread into the populace despite the built-in safeguards. A chronic weight would be lifted. He took in a deep breath of imagined freedom. It would be wonderful!

He had to try. He owed it to himself. All he'd endured, all the shitty, cruel hands life had dealt him. He deserved a bit of good fortune. All he had to do was take the chance offered, as remote and unlikely as it was to succeed. As a wise person once said, you'll find the only things you truly regret are those you didn't do.

The words of wisdom Srandrez Moit'de had shared came to him – "Universe sometimes like gardener. Put people where they needed." Perhaps that was what was happening. The universe brought Ettwanae and Warren together for a joint purpose. Perhaps he was to help her find her people and she to be the key to finding his miracle.

Warren made his decision. He'd not live the rest of his days regretting not pursuing the long shot chance of being truly free. Just as he would not kick himself for years over turning his back to possibility of having found his soul mate. If Volu had spoken truthfully, being around Ettwanae would be uncomfortable at best and intolerable at worst, but he wouldn't know until he tried. Besides, he could always return to Earth if it became too much.

'Follow your heart, flyboy…it says don't close the door on Ettwanae. And follow your head regarding the nannites and find a way to rid yourself of that infestation. Coincidently, or maybe not, she is as likely a path to your cure as any.'

With his mind made up, Warren considered the next step. A flash of concern hit him. Volu. Would she be accepting of him staying after her warning of what that would mean emotionally? Realization came that his biggest challenge may be convincing the obviously protective Eshaar'ne.

"Volu?" he called softly.

"Yes, Warren?"

"How soon before you're ready for FTL?"

"I wish to wait another five standard hours before making the attempt."

"It's a short trip back," he spoke the obvious.

A long pause followed, the living ship perhaps waiting for him to say more. "It is," Volu finally broke the silence. "Are you leaving us?" The voice was stiff with neutrality.

"Only for as long as it takes to make arrangements for my absence. I'd like to stay if you'll have me."

He counted the seconds…one thousand five, one thousand six…one thousand ten…

"Ettwanae wants you to join us, but her longing is minimizing how difficult that will be for both of you. If it becomes too painful, I will return you to Earth even if you both object. I will not jeopardize her physical or psychological wellbeing."

"I understand and would expect no less."

"Then I will do my best to help you find what you seek." The response was measured. "Etxan'Ir should contain vast amounts of biotechnical data."

"I am sorry, Volu, that I've disappointed you and Ettwanae. The bond with Ztar was unintentional."

Another stretch of stillness. Then, "Do you wish to bond with Ettwanae?"

"I think I do, Volu. It feels right – a down to my soul kind of right."

Warren could have sworn the mood in the room lightened. "Then we will find a way."

He and the alien were quiet for some time. Then Warren wanted to know something if he was going to be living inside Volu. "A question. It is you or Ettwanae or both that is telepathic?"

"We are telepathic together."

"Are you telepathic with anyone else?"

"No. Our mind-to-mind communication is the result of our joining. Neither of us can read minds, even between the two of us, although intense physical or emotional feelings can be transmitted. Our telepathy is simply a communication link."

"So you can't read my mind or communicate with me telepathically?"

"No. If you and Ettwanae became bound, then I could reach your mind with effort through hers, but not directly."

"Why?"

"It is as the U'larr created the Eshaaru and Eshaar'ne, Warren. That is the best explanation I can offer."

Fatigue was tugging on his mental shirtsleeve. The failed attempt and its emotion aftermath had taken a toll. "I have many more questions, Volu, but for now, I think Ettwanae had the right idea about a nap."

"I will wake you when we arrive at Earth if you still sleep," the voice came softly and soothingly.

Warren nodded, then spread out on the lounger and allowed sleep to take him.

###

How long she cried, she did not know. It seemed like a lifetime. When no more tears would come, she felt detached from her emotions. Easing up and stretching limbs and wings to release the stiffness, she felt lightheaded, but it passed quickly. As she wiped her face and blew her nose, she fully expected to hear Volu's voice at any moment, but as the seconds passed, the Eshaar'ne remained silent. 'Just as well,' Ettwanae thought. 'Nothing she can say to change things.'

Her mind returned to what do about the situation. 'The kind thing would be to release Warren,' she told herself in an odd calmness. 'Save you both from constant ache. Promise to return with the nannite cure once you've found Etxan'Ir, but leave him on Earth. Let him live a happy life with his friends and loved ones. Continue the search on your own and hope that you'll also find a way to break his bond to Ztar. Then if he still wants you…' She took a deep breath and released it gently. 'Yes, that would be the best decision. He'd be safe and pain free.'

"Volu?"

"My Poda." The voice overflowed with tenderness.

"I've made a decision."

"Do you wish to share it with me?"

Ettwanae stood and got a drink of water. "Yes. I've decided to follow my heart and continue the search for my parents and for Etxan'Ir. I will follow my head and take Warren back to Earth and leave him. When we find a way to free him from the nannites and the false bond, we'll return to Earth. I cannot ask him to bear the pain of us being together but not."

"You are certain?"

"I am."

"Then, all that remains is to tell him of your decision."

Ettwanae took a deep breath, the glass in her hand shook slightly. "For his sake, Volu, I must do this."

"Your decision is motivated by compassion, my Poda. Perhaps the telling will not be as difficult as you believe."

Ettwanae found the statement odd. Volu of all beings should know how difficult it was going to be to say goodbye to her soulbound, but she let it pass as an attempt to reassure.

###

_A/N: This was a tough segment and I rewrote and reworked it at least a half dozen times. Hope I captured all the right emotions and thoughts the characters would have under the circumstances and interested in hearing your opinion on that particular point, if you'd be so kind. _

_The next installment reveals the outcome of the separate decisions Warren and Ettwanae have come to. Until next then, faithful readers!_


	12. Chapter 11

_A/N: Everything comes down to this short, simple chapter. Hope you like._

_Thank you to my steadfast reader/reviewers – Focus SJS, Winchester-grl44, xrystofer, and a big welcome back hug to louisestarfly. Without you, all the hard work would seem to be for naught. You have been with me since Sacrifice and your constant support and encouragement keeps me at the keyboard. Each of you is beyond wonderful!_

**Chapter 11**

"Volu, where is Warren?"

"In the gathering room."

Ettwanae left her chambers and walked the few feet to find her soulbound asleep. Stepping inside the room, the door dilated closed behind her as Volu made the decision they required privacy. She silently padded over to where he lay on the lounger; one wing hung over the edge, the other covered most of his body.

Lowering herself to the floor next to him, she studied the man in his sleep. He lay on his stomach, face turned toward her. So handsome. So perfect. Flawless in design as their creators had intended. The U'larr and Ozshi'wanae together brought forth the Eshaaru. The ancients created the species and gave it Aru; their goddess favored it with Ura. And now, perhaps she and Warren were the last of their kind. Her breath hitched with the thought. Yet she held fast to the hope that perhaps others were out there in hiding as she was. Or hiding in plain sight as Warren had been, disguised as a mutant on a planet with many such beings. Yet he denied his heritage. She would not attempt to change his mind. Warren deserved respect of his belief he was Human, but she'd hold to her belief that he was Eshaaru until Volu determined he was not.

She listened to his quiet breathing, watched as his eyes moved with a dream. What was his subconscious trying to work through? What was nocturnal wisdom showing him? A lock of hair had fallen across one of his eyes. Carefully, she brushed it aside. Even that barest of touches created shivers of delicious desire. Warren moaned.

###

He and Ztar were standing in the great room of Warren's mountain retreat. The Turzent drew him into for a deep kiss, the hands moving up Warren's back to the wing base. Sexual delight flooded his body as the Turzent found the sweet spot at the wing base. He moaned into the kiss. Then Ztar pulled away and scanned Warren's face.

"I love you," the man proclaimed.

"And I love you," Warren declared back.

"But I also love another."

"As do I."

Ztar smiled. "Then all is right and well."

"Yes," Warren agreed.

"We are blessed by the gods."

"We are."

The room around them morphed into a blend of the Mi-Lartui and Volu, but that caused no concern. Warren walked toward the windows that now showed the blackness of space and familiar star streaks of faster-than-light travel.

"I will be going away for awhile," he told the Turzent while watching the star trails.

Ztar moved up next to him. "There are dangers out there."

"Many. Answers, too."

"To your questions."

"Yes."

"I will always be here for you, my Archangel."

"I know."

"Love her without reservation. It's the only way."

Warren turned sharply toward Ztar. He remembered those words. He'd spoken them once before, but to whom? When? A strange feeling came over him. Was this a dream? Warren struggled to sort it out.

Ztar reached over and brushed aside a lock of hair that hung down his face that hadn't been there a moment ago. The touch sent tingles through his body. 'Dreaming,' he told himself. Warren slip into higher consciousness and the scene faded.

###

Warren stirred and she watched him rise to wakefulness. Her chest tightened, as did her throat. Tears threatened. Her body shuddered. She was about to tell her soulbound they would be going their separate ways. When he opened his eyes, she smiled despite the anguish.

Startled, he blinked and then returned the smile. "Hi."

"Hello."

He sat up slowly as if getting his bearings. "Was I out long?"

She looked up into the face she wanted to burn into memory. "I'm not sure. I came in just a couple minutes ago."

The silence was uncomfortably long.

"Warren, I-" "Ettwanae-" They started simultaneously and then chuckled nervously.

"You first," she offered.

Warren shook his head. "No. Ladies, first."

'Goddess, give me strength!' she prayed and rose from the floor to sit across from him. "Very well." She sucked in a breath and prepared to say the next words as quickly as possible fearing she may not be able to speak for long. "Warren, I've made a decision. We will take you back to Earth and the rest of us will leave. We'll find Etxan'Ir and when we have a cure for the nannites, I'll return to Earth and give that to you. Then you'll be free. I can't ask you to stay with us. It would be too hard." The telling was done, and her heart broke and her soul cried. She tethered the tears and sobs by the merest thread. Looking at him was too wrenching, so she focused on her hands resting in her lap, clamped tightly together. "It- it's for the best."

Warren was surprised, but gladly so. The woman who claimed to be his soul mate was willing to walk away. He chose to take that as confirmation that she was not employing any form of control over him. It was the last piece of persuasion he needed. Rationally, he could make arguments about manipulation and reverse psychology, but his gut said her selflessness was genuine. The emotional turmoil he was sensing from her was too real, too sincere. Her whole body spoke of anguish…hunched shoulders, the downcast gaze, hands clasped against inner pain, wings drooping behind her. The body language jived with the words, both said and unsaid.

He scooted to the edge the lounger. "Ettwanae, thank you for that. Knowing you would not keep me against my will or somehow try to maneuver me into staying, means a lot. I, too, have made a decision." He waited until she looked up to see why he stopped talking. He gathered himself for the next words that two days ago he would have labeled unthinkable and irrational. "I have decided to go with you on your quest, failed bond or no. I want to find a cure for the nannites. I want to break the bond with Ztar."

Her eyes widened. "You- you want to _stay_?"

He nodded.

Her reaction was hesitant. "Warren, remember what Volu said. The longing will eat at our souls – it will not give up. I can't put you through that."

"I remember, but I can help with the search. I've been in a scrap or two in my day, so I have experience on my side. I really want this, Ettwanae. Maybe you will find Etxan'Ir on your own, but if my skills can make that search shorter, then I'm willing to give it a try if you are." Doubt still filled her face. He locked his eyes onto hers. "I've made my decision. I will go with you – all you have to say is yes."

Shock and then elation filled her eyes and face. The wings came up, the posture straightened, her hands unclenched, and a smile that shone like the sun on a clear, summer day warmed him to his soul. She leaped off the chair and nearly threw herself into his arms. "Yes! Oh, yes!" Her arms wrapped around him in a crushing embrace, wings spread wide. "Thank you," she murmured into his ear. The expected sexual heat ignited two heartbeats later; their bodies trembled in response. He drew his hands up her arms and gently pushed her back. Ettwanae didn't resist. "We'll need to learn how to deal with this aspect, though." Warren observed as she moved back to her chair.

"It will be difficult." The happiness dissipated slightly from her angelic face, and her hands were in fists.

"I accept that. We'll figure it out."

She nodded, brushing a stray hair away from her cheek, sending another wave of desire through Warren. 'Such a small thing and I'm on fire,' Warren commented to himself. 'Difficult may be putting it mildly.' He shoved down the ache as much as he could.

"If I'm going with you, we need a game plan. I'd like to meet with everyone to map that out and hear all the details I'm missing on where and how you've searched to this point."

"Should I get Gatebi and Flint?"

"No time like the present."

"I'll take care of that," Volu's voice softly filled the room.

"Give me two minutes," Warren requested. Nature called. "Then we'll meet in the galley." He needed something to drink and eat.

As if reading his mind, Ettwanae offered to get out snacks and nearly bounced from the room in joy. Warren smiled watching her leave. 'Yes, this will be difficult, but hopefully worth every bit of discomfort and potential danger.'

###

_A/N: Next chapter is longer as Warren asserts himself into the search and the dynamics of the group. He has much to learn. _

_And I haven't forgotten about Den-neer. He's out there…waiting._


	13. Chapter 12

_A/N: Greetings one and all! I had a very good day yesterday because I officially finished all the hardcore editing on the rest of Soulbound. Thank goodness, because the way the book is broken up right now, there are around 50 chapters so it was a long haul. I did warn you it's a lengthy book, right? Anyway, for me, this was huge step toward story completion and I'm almost giddy with joy._

_Now I only have to do the final spit-and-polish review on each chapter before uploading. The plan is to post as chapters are ready – no particular schedule. And I'm certain the number of chapters will drop as I combine very short segments with adjoining sections. But 'nuff about all that._

_As promised, this installment is much longer. Nothing tense; no drama or angst-filled scenes – Warren is all business and wants to map out their game plan for the big search. A lot of information is tossed around as he learns what's occurred thus far in the hunt for Etxan'Ir and the Eshaaru. _

_Now, on with the story…_

**Chapter 12**

When Warren entered the galley, the trio was seated, snacks and beverages spread out in obvious hast. Ettwanae was already munching. Gatebi sat next to Ettwanae sipping on something reddish colored, and Flint was eyeing his food choices from his spot across the table from the women.

"Hey, man!" Flint spoke first. "Twae says you're stayin'! Good decision."

Gatebi cast a thoughtful gaze. "Yes, Warren. I'm pleased you decided to join us."

Flint suddenly looked a bit sheepish, shoulders sagging. "And, I'm…umm, 'bout what I said before. Sorry, War…everybody. Guess I got pissed. Was…frustrated is all."

Warren waved off the apology. "I think we all understand frustration and disappointment, Flint. Don't worry about it."

Both women gestured agreement and the teen brightened again instantly.

"Least I'm not the only man 'round here now. Taking care of three women is almost more than one guy can handle!" he joked with a wide grin.

Gatebi looked pained, Ettwanae laughed, and Warren heard what could have been a groan from Volu's vocal orifice. "Not man enough for three?" Warren zinged back with a smirk.

A stung look crossed Flint's youthful face. "You try handling these three for just a day by yourself, 'specially when one gets bitchy. Then you won't be laughing. Tellin' ya, War, they're hard to manage." That got the teen looks from Ettwanae and Gatebi that'd give Wolverine pause, but Flint seemed oblivious to the danger. "You're gonna find out now. Can't say I didn't warn ya!"

Warren laughed lightly and took the seat they'd left at the head of the rectangular table that like all the other furniture within Volu seemed extruded from the bulkhead. As he grabbed a couple of wafer-like sweets from their packaging, he wondered if the head-of-table position meant the same to Ettwanae and Gatebi as it did to Flint and Warren. Regardless of any symbolism, if he was joining the expedition, he was going to step in as leader. It was a position he would claim based on age and experience.

All eyes locked on him as he began. "I have decided to join the search for the nodes and Etxan'Ir, as long as everyone here, including Volu, is agreeable." Heads nodded or hands gestured affirmative.

"I am in agreement," Volu voiced.

In that moment, Warren realized something about Volu's speech pattern that he perhaps subliminally noticed before but it hadn't clicked consciously. She never used contractions or shortened words even though the Turzent language accommodated many. 'Interesting,' he noted and continued. "First, you'll tell me about the search to date. Second, we assess our status. Third, an overall search strategy will be determined. Then we return to Earth so I get things in order for an extended absence. And finally, we'll put our plan into motion and head to our first destination. Acceptable?"

Again, agreement all around accompanied by what Warren interpreted as expressions of relief. Was leadership what the little interlarded group needed? Logically, Ettwanae or Volu should have been providing that, but perhaps they floundered or were uncomfortable in the role. So until someone objected, he'd proceed on the assumption he was in charge. If he stepped on toes, he'd apologize later.

"Ettwanae, tell me about the search. Start at the beginning."

Swallowing her food, she began. "The beginning would be about two standard years ago when Bhenra died." A flicker of sadness crossed her face, but she continued without pause. "I had the amulet, but that was all. I used it to summon Volu. I knew so little about my people back then. She began teaching me. Volu told me that the amulet's nodes were hidden in my parent's repository in the Zramynian System. We went there and found it had been looted. Volu learned from the mining facility computer what my mother left for me had been transferred to imperial authorities on Dradeaa Station. We went there and Volu discovered everything was sent to a museum on Jandur a couple years ealier that had a large exhibit of U'larr artifacts."

"It was a challenge to break into the Dradeaa AI," Volu spoke up. "Quite advanced, but not surprising since it is the sector station for the Zramynian System. That is a highly restricted area."

Warren nodded. "I know. Contains large deposits of the elements needed for FTL engines."

"Correct." A hint of surprise laced the response. "I assume you know that from your time on the Royal Court."

"Yes. And just for the record, I'm still a member of Court and will be until my death or Ztar decrees otherwise. That may give us some leverage in the future."

"Noted."

The Eshaar'ne's short response sounded like a mix of agreement and concern to Warren. "Ztar and his people will leave us alone, Volu. He will not go against my wishes," he assured guessing at the reason for the unspoken concern. 'Hope I'm right on that,' Warren commented internally. "Then when you arrived at Jandur, what happened?" he asked, getting them back on subject.

"Volu confirmed the nodes were there – all three of them. I visited the museum and learned they weren't on display, but kept in the museum archives. I spoke with the curator, telling him I was an archeology student researching the U'larr civilization and the legend surrounding Etxan'Ir and wanted to examine their off-exhibit artifacts. I also told him that a relative on Dradeaa Station shared that the museum had received a number of rare objects from Zramynian System and those I particularly wanted to see."

"Did he believe you?"

"He didn't question my story. He did seem very interested in my research and what I knew about the U'larr and Eshaaru. I had to be careful to say enough to be convincing, but not too much as to raise suspicions. I'm not skilled at deception, and he may have suspected something wasn't right, but he did show me the nodes. My amulet nearly gave me away!" Ettwanae placed her hand on her chest, over the bijou amulet that hung beneath her top. "I jumped when the energy surge hit me. He gave me quite the look."

"When you get close to the nodes, the amulet reacts?" Warren asked for confirmation.

She nodded. "Yes."

"All memory nodes look the same, Warren. Each amulet recognizes its own nodes through a specific energy signature. That unique identifier prevents nodes from being used in another amulet."

"What happens if the wrong nodes are put into an amulet?" Gatebi asked.

"They will not activate."

Warren considered Volu's explanation. "So each amulet has only one set of nodes that will work. If we find other nodes, they won't help us."

"That's right. Only my amulet and its nodes are useful to us," Ettwanae confirmed. "If we find another amulet, even if complete, neither Volu or I can activate it."

"The amulet is of me, Warren," Volu jumped in. "Ettwanae and I are joined and the amulet recognizes only her. The nodes are joined to the amulet and recognize only that to which they are joined. It is a closed system."

"Are the nodes of you as well?"

"Not in the same way as the amulet. All Eshaar'ne can form empty nodes, but only an Eshaaru can _initiate_ their creation and execute the transfer of information or recording of memories. We believe T'Qilla's Eshaar'ne created the nodes for Ettwanae's amulet and then her mother performed the joining ritual to link them to the amulet I birthed. She hid the nodes in the family repository for that time when her child and I would be joined."

Warren was puzzled. "I don't understand – why separate the amulet from the nodes in the first place?"

Ettwanae shrugged slightly with an upturned hand. "We're uncertain, but it could be my mother intended to continue adding to the nodes after she left me with Bhenra."

Warren had much to learn about Eshaarus and Eshaar'nes, but he was determined to stay focused on the purpose of the meeting. "And the only way to find Etxan'Ir is through a complete and activated amulet."

Flint chimed in while chewing the last of his food. "That's what Vo tells us." The teen paused with an expectant look, but his hand did not go to the back of his neck. With apparent mild surprise, he continued. "The lowdown is we gotta get the nodes. Without them, the big-ass library won't even let us in the door."

Warren's thoughts turned to why Gatebi and Flint stuck with Ettwanae after Hydeera. This wasn't their quest. 'Something to delve into later one-on-one,' he told himself knowing it was important to understand what knitted the group together. "What happened after you saw the nodes in the museum?"

"We waited a few days and then I tried to steal them. Things did not go well…" Ettwanae shuddered visibly and the wings drew closer in an unconscious reaction. "_They_ were waiting."

" 'They' being the same ones that tried to kidnap me and attacked Volu?" Warren glanced quickly around at the trio. Each displayed protective body language in one form or another. 'They' had obviously made an impact on everyone.

"The bastards were waiting for her!" Flint burst out, then quickly looked to the Eshaaru. "I still think that museum guy ratted you out, Twae. I don't care we got nothin' on him."

"As you said, Flint, there is no evidence he was anything but a victim as well," Gatebi pointed out. "The curator may not have even known about them."

Flint crossed his arms and frowned. "I still smell a rat."

"So when you went back for the nodes, they had set a trap for you?" Warren said pulling the discussion back on track.

"Yes. Volu overrode the security systems for that part of the museum and I slipped in. Everything was going so perfectly; I should have been suspicious. Just before I picked up the nodes, I remember an intense pain in my head and then nothing until I woke up on his ship."

"And Volu couldn't get to you?" he asked.

"I was blinded, Warren. At the same time Ettwanae was reaching for the nodes, they raised a powerful shield I could not penetrate. By the time I got to the museum, she was gone. They were extremely quick and anticipated my every move. I was unable to detect the other Eshaar'ne until the moment they phased to FTL."

"The augmented shielding you had mentioned earlier?"

"That is what I believe. It is the only explanation as to why I was unable to detect the Eshaar'ne on Jandur. I have since learned of a weakness in the technology, but my method is not foolproof."

That bit of information was not reassuring. "But you obviously tracked her to Hydeera…"

"I followed their cloak wake. It was faint, but enough to lead me to Hydeera. Unfortunately, they appear to have corrected that weakness."

"What happened on his ship?" he asked of Ettwanae.

"I was locked in a room and wearing a drug cuff filled with something that made me weak. He came only to provide food and water."

"Did he say who he was or who he works for?"

"No. He talked, but revealed little about himself or anyone else."

"What species?"

Ettwanae frowned slightly. "Oddly enough, Sat'reyan. Something wasn't right, though."

"What do you mean?"

"I grew up pretending to be Sat'reyan. He didn't act like someone of that heritage."

"Perhaps he grew up on another planet, away from his people," Gatebi suggested.

The Eshaaru grabbed another treat in an absentminded manner and placed it on her plate. "Perhaps, but there was something more to it – can't explain. I think he may have been using an image inducer. I have no proof, just a feeling."

"You mentioned that before." Warren considered various possibilities – inducer, or chameleon ability like Mystique, or mental projection. "Anything else?"

"He's a telepath. It bothered him was that he couldn't read me."

"He told you that?"

She nodded. "He tried probing me several times – I could feel the…pressure," she explained, touching her forehead. "From what he suggested, he is a very powerful telepath."

Warren was surprised. "You have mental shields strong enough to stop a powerful telepath?"

"Yes, it's a natural ability. I have no control over it."

"Most Eshaaru have natural psychic blocks," Volu broke in. "A requirement of service. As keepers of the secrets of Etxan'Ir, both Eshaaru and Eshaar'ne must be immune to telepathically probing."

Warren perked up at that. Another argument against him being Eshaaru – he had no such blocks. Yet Volu had qualified her statement. "You said most."

"Yes. Over time, a few Eshaaru genetic lines lost that safeguard according to my medical files. Those without the psychic guards were not allowed to serve as gathers or know of the location of Etxan'Ir."

"What happened to those lineages?"

"Unknown. That is the extent of my knowledge on the subject."

Warren sighed quietly. So much for the counterpoint to him being Eshaaru. He wondered if anyone else was expanding on the bit of information like he was. "Back to your story, then," he prompted almost more to himself than the others.

"After what seemed like days, he said we'd reach our destination and I felt the same pain as on Jandur. I assume it was a telepathic burst."

"The block doesn't protect you from that?"

"No. My shield prevents mental probing, but I'm vulnerable to other psychic abilities. I woke up on an exam table in what turned out to be the Hydeera labs." Ettwanae drew her arms around herself. "It was horrible, Warren. They put drug cuffs on me. Most drugs didn't work, but the strength inhibitor did. I tried to fight, but…" she shook her head. "I was so scared! I prayed they wouldn't figure out the image inducer and discover who I was. The man operating the scanner knew something was not right about the readings and he kept trying different things. Thankfully, nothing worked."

Warren watched as Ettwanae pulled into herself. He guessed what she was preparing to say next was traumatic. "They… they tried using another telepath on me, but of course that didn't work. Then they tried more drugs so I'd tell them what they wanted to know, but praise the goddess, those drugs didn't work either. So- so they used other methods…" She trembled and hugged herself.

Warren leaned closer and kept his voice tender. "They used torture?"

When Ettwanae looked up, tears glistered in her eyes and she nodded. Gatebi's hand quickly appeared on Ettwanae's shoulder to reassure.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that." Torture was something he could empathize with all too easily. "I know what torture does to you." Waves of protectiveness washed through him, followed quickly by visions of what he would do if he ever got his hands on those who hurt her. The intensity of the feelings made him jerk internally. "What did they want to know?"

"Who I am mostly. They didn't believe the scanner readings that said I was Sat'reyan." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Then you arrived with imperial troops and the three of us escaped," Ettwanae said in relived relief, glancing briefly at Gatebi and then Flint before resting her gaze on Warren. "We owe you a debt that can never be repaid. Thank you."

He held her eyes with his. "The thanks goes properly to the Emperor and his generals, not me. General Gtar-Cro and his people found the Etagllot facility. I was just along for the ride."

"Know we are grateful, Warren, whoever is responsible," Gatebi spoke with sincerity.

"That's for damn sure!" Flint added. "Those people are pure evil."

Warren wouldn't let the group dwell on their time at the hands of the mercenary scientists. "What did you do after Hydeera?"

The three friends exchanged knowing looks and grins before Ettwanae answered. "We headed to Alcab to take Gatebi home, but we had gotten to know each other and Gatebi decided to stay with me for a little while. So after she said her farewells to her family, we _were_ going to take Flint back to Earth."

Flint interrupted with a wave of his hands. "I decided to stay, War. Two women – well, three if you count Vo – cruisin' 'round the universe without male protection…just not smart, ya know? Had to stay. Sorta duty and all. Vo and Twae got me outta that hell hole, so figured I'd hang around and make sure they didn't get into trouble searching for that library and her people." He explained leaning back, trying to take on the male protector look he envisioned for himself. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

Gatebi's expression was one of an older sibling forced to tolerate the antics of a younger offspring. "Flint pleaded his case and Ettwanae and Volu took pity," she translated with a barely concealed sigh.

Flint jerked forward toward Warren. "_See_? See what I put up with? Three against one – that's me. Hopelessly outnumbered. You stayin's the best news I've had since joining this estrogen boat!"

Warren moaned mentally as various groans and protests erupted from the women. Flint was destined to try his patience. More than likely, the dynamics of the whole group would test his endurance. He raised a hand to silence the room. "Obviously, you all stayed together. Then what?"

"We needed to resupply. With two more people, that was top priority. So we visited a food depot on Bast to restock." Ettwanae explained.

Flint laughed. "War, that's code for stealing. We raided a warehouse. Vo's pretty good at- _oww_! Damn it!" Flint grumbled and massaged his nape with a scowl. "Vo-_lu_'s good in a heist. The cloak, her way with computers, stuff like that. And Twae can carry a lot of weight – wa-a-ay stronger than she looks, War. Don't mess with her."

Warren studied the trio. Flint seemed rather proud of their thievery skills, while Gatebi and Ettwanae's body language spoke of discomfort. 'Good.' He looked to the Eshaaru and did not look away until she finally met his gaze.

"Please don't think bad of us, Warren. We have no credits and nothing to use for bartering. We only take what we need to survive – nothing more. We- I really don't know what else I can do."

Warren appreciated the switch from plural to singular. Ettwanae was taking responsibility for their thievery and relieving her shipmates of blame in a show of leadership. "You have no financial resources?" She shook her head. "We'll need to address that."

Flint brightened. "War's loaded, ladies! Problem solved. No more conning store computers or midnight warehouse raids." Flint turned quickly to Warren. "Not that I was scared, man, but I worry 'bout Twae and Gabby, ya know."

Warren smiled. "Not a good predicament," he offered. "Before we deal with the finances of this expedition, I'd like to hear the rest of what happened before a couple days ago."

"If I may, Warren?" Volu's feminine voice filled the room.

He nodded and made a mental note to have a one-on-one with the Eshaar'ne to discuss her capabilities, including her internal visual receptors.

"We waited a couple days then returned to Jandur to attempt to retrieve the nodes. Unknown forces arrived at the museum while Ettwanae and Flint were inside. We managed to recover the family node, but the other intruders absconded with two nodes."

"They were professionals, Warren. We nearly lost all three nodes. Thank the goddess the one I managed to hold onto was that of my parents," Ettwanae chimed in.

"Any idea who the thief was?"

"No," Volu answered. "And we have had no success learning more. Comnet searches have uncovered possibilities – others that search for U'larr artifacts, hints of hidden organizations, and the like. Yet nothing to lead us in any specific direction."

"So you're at a dead-end."

"We are."

"Have you interrogated the museum curator?"

"No," the ship clipped.

Warren didn't press. It was likely an option too risky for the group at the time. That was about to change if Warren got his way. "After Jandur, where did you go?"

"We reviewed the memory node for whatever clues it may hold, but the information was from 17 standard years and earlier. We did learn of contacts T'Qilla and T'Azrued had established and visited those we could locate. Unfortunately, Ettwanae's parents were very secretive and the old contacts offered little useful information."

"And after those leads were exhausted?"

"We came looking for you. Volu learned you were in Yaunra for a trial, so we decided to follow you from Sat'rey," Ettwanae explained. "The rest you know."

"Volu's cloaking must be very effective to go undetected by Gtar-Cro's transport and escort ships. My trip to and from Sat'rey was under heavy guard."

"It is not cloaking as you understand it," the ship offered. "I phase partially to another dimension, during which I cannot be detected by current technology."

"Volu, you and I need to talk in depth about your capabilities. Right now, though, I'd like to recap the situation as I understand it. Tell me if I get anything wrong. First, you have retrieved one of three memory nodes. We need to find the other two nodes in the hopes they contain clues to lead us to Etxan'Ir. But, and it's a big but, because the bonding failed between Ettwanae and me, the amulet will not lead us there, even if complete. We'll have to rely on old-fashioned detective work to find the both the nodes and the library. Do I have it right so far?" Gestures of agreement all around.

"Second, the Etagllot are looking for you. Their operative has an apparently augmented Eshaar'ne at his command and he has telepathic and mindblast capabilities and can possibly disguise himself. A group called the Shozen hunt your people for unknown reasons, so that's another threat. We have unnamed forces that are in possession of the other two nodes. The memory node you have has provided no clues as to Etxan'Ir's location. We have a museum curator who as yet has not been interrogated. You have already talked with as many of your parents' old contacts as you could find with little to show for the effort. You've found none of your people or evidence that any of them are still around. You are at a dead-end. All that's correct?"

"Yes." Ettwanae answered, tightness evident in her voice. She looked at Warren in a way that said 'But I have found one of my people – you.' He was glad she remained silent.

"There is another aspect of the amulet's energy signature you should know, Warren." Volu's voice broke the momentary silence. "If I am within close proximity to the lost nodes, I can detect them. They radiate the same specific energy as the amulet."

"Like a homing beacon?"

"Yes. However, the distance is short – within standard orbit of a planet – for me to pinpoint their location."

"That's something – at least we only have to narrow the search down to a planet," Warren tried to keep sarcasm out of his voice. The hunt was no less daunting by the revelation, but perhaps a tad easier if they got close. "Could whoever has the nodes somehow block you from detecting them?"

Volu didn't reply quite as quickly to that question. "It is _possible_, although since the energy signal travels through the same dimension I use for FTL, it is highly unlikely with the technology of even the most advanced races in this sector of space. However, if the Shozen are involved, then anything is possible."

"And these Shozen. Who are they exactly?"

"The enemy of the Eshaaru." Bitterness came through clearly in Ettwanae's voice.

"You've said that, but who are they?"

Ettwanae shook her head. "We don't know what race they are if that's what you're asking. Perhaps Shozen is the name of their species. It's possible that information is contained in the Eshaaru history node. They are an old enemy; my mother was clear about that in her message to me. And they are very powerful."

"And Volu knows nothing about them?" Warren found that odd. Ettwanae's hesitation in replying he found even more curious.

"What I know is old information." Volu stepped in. "Warren, certain segments of my memory were lost. What I retain are racial memories and information transferred to me by my mother at birth. It contains basic information, such as in-depth medical knowledge of our species, our origins and early history, and a basic understanding of the U'larr and Ozshi'wanae. I have some memory fragments of my mother and my earliest years, but little after that. Our hope lies with the Eshaaru history node. It should contain the record of our people through the time it was placed in the family repository."

Warren was troubled by the revelation. If Volu was suffering from memory loss, no wonder the foursome was struggling to put pieces together. "How far back does the memory loss go?"

"Many hundreds of standard years. But," she paused, "memory is a complex matter. One cannot say with certainty all you have lost."

Warren nodded – you wouldn't know what you couldn't remember. "Do you know why you lost that block of time?"

"I do." The answer ended there. Volu obviously did not wish to elaborate.

"Does how or why that happened have any bearing on our quest?" If it did not, Warren would pursue another time.

"No," Volu said without hesitation.

"What you _do_ remember, is there a chance it's been corrupted?" he asked bluntly.

"I have confidence in the retained memory, Warren. There are no indications that the knowledge has been compromised. The memory cells are whole and healthy."

Warren decided to accept Volu's assessment. What choice did they have? He turned the discussion back to the previous topic. "The Shozen – we don't know who they are or why they are your enemy, only that they are. And you say this is based on a message from your mother?"

Ettwanae nodded. "Yes, and from the node. Actually, my mother recorded two messages. One I listened to right after Bhenra died and the other after Volu came to me. But neither the messages or the node give any details about the Shozen. My mother may have depended on the missing nodes to fill in. But of course-"

"…your family repository was discovered by the miners." Warren finished. 'Life doesn't just dump shit on _you_, Worthington,' he thought with sympathy. "You must have been devastated."

He could see her struggle to maintain control over her emotions. "We were – Volu and I are both searching for our pasts and to find someone had stolen what could give some of that back to us was almost unbearable."

Warren leaned toward Ettwanae. "We'll find the nodes, but we may need to use tactics that the four of you have not used in the past. We may need to get ruthless. I don't know where this search will take us, whose toes we may step on, or whom we may have to use to get what we want. It is very possible we'll make even more enemies. It could become very dangerous." Then he glanced around the table, locking eyes with each in turn. "Each of you must be willing to accept the risks. If you cannot, we will take you home."

He watched the reactions to the warning. Warren saw everything from surprise, to worry, to anticipation. Ettwanae was gauging her shipmates as well.

Flint was the first to speak. "Action, adventure, excitement – it's what I signed up for. Gone this far with Twae, don't wanna jump ship now. I'm stayin'."

All eyes turned to Gatebi. "What you said about ruthless bothers me, Warren. I'm not a ruthless person. This is not my search, but I have remained with Ettwanae out of friendship. I want her to find her people, if they are out there, but I cannot condone violence as a tool employed wantonly. Is that what you are suggesting?"

"No, Gatebi. If used, it will be a tool of last resort. But if enemies threaten, I will do what is necessary to protect us. I will also do what is necessary to get the information needed to reach our goal. I make no promises to never use violence to that end, but I do promise to use it with prudence and when no other options are available."

The Alcab sat quietly for many long seconds, looking down at her hands. Finally, she raised her head and met Ettwanae's eyes. "I have been your friend for a little over a standard year – not long relative to lifetimes. Yet I feel we were destined to be friends. We have been through much in a short time. You are important to me and I will not abandon you now. I will stay."

Ettwanae placed a hand over her friend's wrist. "You are very dear to me, Gatebi. You are closer to me than any past friend. Thank you for deciding to stay. I would be devastated if you left," she offered with a gentle smile. Then her eyes traveled to the teen. "And you as well, friend Flint."

Flint nearly beamed with the sentiment. "Hey, _hey_! The Fearsome Foursome becomes the Fighting Five! Gotta love it." Flint's enthusiasm spoke volumes to Warren about the connection between the group, despite the verbal jabs they often exchanged.

"I think for everyone's sake, we'll aim for not as much fighting as cunning and shrewdness," Warren ventured when Ettwanae and Gatebi groaned over Flint's team moniker. "Back to business. I want to talk about our status next. Volu, when will you be fully recovered?"

"I am at 92 percent efficiency and will be 100 percent within approximately 12 standard hours. My integument is fully regenerated, thereby weapons and shields are at peak efficacy. The damage that remains is subintegumental and does not affect standard functions."

"Are you still in pain?"

"I am experiencing minor residual pain, but nothing more than what you might after most of a wound has healed. Thank you for asking, Warren."

"We will not move until you are fully ready to do so, Volu."

"92 percent is sufficient for travel. I am ready."

Warren nodded then turned to the next subject. "Supplies. Where do we stand?"

Gatebi perked up at that. "That's my responsibility. I monitor our consumption and let Ettwanae know when we need to resupply. At our typical rate of consumption, we have enough stocks for another 35 imperial standard days before the situation becomes urgent. However, with one more person on board with an appetite apparently as robust as Ettwanae's, I estimate 25 days." The slight smirk on her face was not wasted on Warren and he shrugged slightly. "Water is not an issue since Volu produces that for us."

"And disposal of waste?" he queried.

"No problemo, War. Volu is the master of recycling. You can feed her anything!"

"Feed?" He hadn't thought about the fact that a living ship would need to eat.

"I absorb matter from space and convert it to bio-energy to fully sustain me. Whatever waste material my Other and her companions generate, I also readily convert, whether that be food, packaging materials, discarded clothing, or bio-waste. As long as the discards are sent through my esophageal portals, it will be washed to my ventriculus where enzymes break it down."

Flint motioned to Warren. "See? Told ya. Master recycler. We dump it, Vo grubs it. Perfect!" Flint chuckled at his own quip.

Warren felt himself wanting to groan. The teen just didn't quit. "You've already told me you have no financial resources. I do, but Earth's monetary system isn't linked with the Empire's, so that won't easily solve the problem. Luckily, I have connections with deep imperial pockets. When we need to resupply, I'd like to contact Emperor Ztar." Warren raised his hand as mouths opened to object. "I know about wanting to keep a low profile, but we need to be realistic. The more time we spend looking for a robbery target, the less time we spend searching for what we really want to find. Ztar can get us anything we need. I trust him completely and he trusts me. If I tell him I cannot reveal details about what I'm doing, he will respect that."

"I don't know…"

Ettwanae's frown managed to look sexy, at least to Warren. His libido had stayed corralled during the meeting thus far, but for mysterious reasons, Ettwanae's expression stirred it. He pulled his eyes away from the furrowed brow, long lashes, pouty lips… "It is the simplest solution. I understand you have no reasons to trust the Emperor, but I do. Can't you trust my judgment of his integrity?"

The Eshaaru scanned his face. It felt like a physical touch. Warren could almost feel her gaze rove across his cheek, eyelids, mouth. He jerked as he pulled himself back from the slippery slope of arousal. Then he watched in fascination as the blue of her eyes darkened and he knew instantly that she was feeling the allure as well. 'Need to wrap this up,' he warned himself.

"I would like to trust him, but-"

"We'll tell him the bare minimum, nothing more."

Warren noted that Gatebi and Flint were watching him and Ettwanae intently, barely moving. Apprehension clearly showed on their faces and in their body language. 'Being victims of the Etagllot and a year of being chased has evidently done its damage,' he surmised. 'They're gun shy.'

"Warren, you can understand our hesitation. Should the Emperor betray your trust, he has vast resources at his disposal. If he chose to pursue the Esserru of Turzent legend, our lives would become even more difficult." Volu's voice was taut with concern.

"He needn't know who I'm with."

"You are certain he will accept that?"

Of course Ztar would want to know whom Warren was gallivanting around the galaxy with. He'd press, he'd worry, and likely want to send military escorts to accompany Warren to ensure his safety in light of the Etagllot threat, but Warren was confident in his powers of persuasion. "He may not like it, Volu, but he'll respect my wishes. We can address the issue when the time comes. For now, we'll leave it that we have options other than stealing. If nothing else, we'll resupply on Earth using the resources of my company."

"Earth is not a desirable location relative to the probable direction of our search," Gatebi pointed out. "Your homeworld is at the extreme edge of the Empire."

"That assumes our search keeps us within the Empire." Warren leaned back. "If it does, then my suggestion gains even more merit."

Ettwanae was fidgeting and her face was slightly flushed. Warren took it as signed that she was having difficulty controlling the sexual urges.

"Let's leave the decision until later, knowing we'll need to make a decision in roughly 20 days. We could pick up a few necessities while on Earth. There are some things I won't travel without," he noted; coffee topped the list. "Volu, I'd like to talk with you about your weapons and other defenses outside this meeting. Right now, though, we need to move things along."

"Understand and agree, Warren."

The ship's tone and choice of words told Warren she understood the rising discomfort he and Ettwanae were experiencing. And likely Flint and Gatebi were picking up on the sexual tension if their odd little glances were any indication.

"Here's what I propose as a first step. After Earth, we return to Jandur and interrogate the museum curator. The fact that you were captured after talking with him makes me suspect he knows something."

Flint gave Gatebi an I-told-you-so smirk. She crossed her arms.

"Meanwhile," Warren continued, "I'm going to review the information you've gathered thus far. And Ettwanae, if it doesn't make you too uncomfortable, I'd like to view your memory node. I need to know what you know." Her outward reaction to the request was mixed. "Think about it and let me know," he added quickly. "Volu, I'll need to learn your capabilities." He put his forearms on the table and leaned in. "As for you two," he said flashing a quick look between Flint and Gatebi, "I want to talk with each of you as well. My job right now is to get up to speed as quickly as possible and you can help me with that."

Gatebi's nod was not as enthusiastic as Flint's, Warren observed.

"Anything you need, War, just ask." The teen paused for a moment as if determining whether or not to continue, but obviously decided to. "When we stop on Earth, can we swing by Milwaukee? I'd…I'd like to see someone. Just a few minutes – nothin' long. It's just…my mom. I'd like her to know I'm okay. Been a long time since she's heard from me and, well, you know Moms. They worry."

Ettwanae's face softened and she smiled at Flint. "Of course we'll stop to see your mother. It would be unthinkable not to."

"Thanks, Twae. Not that I'm homesick or anythin', but Mom worries 'bout me, ya know?"

Flint was a touch homesick, it was obvious. 'Perhaps he should stay with his mother while I take care of business in New York.' He'd suggest it when they arrived. Then without warning, another warm wave of desire washed over him causing a slight shudder. Time to wrap up the meeting and put some distance between him and the woman his body craved.

"Next stop, gang, is Earth. Volu and Ettwanae, if you're agreeable, we should get underway."

"Agreed," Ettwanae approved with conviction.

"Volu, make it so," Flint commanded to the air with a deep voice.

Warren recognized the phrase immediately. "Star Trek Next Gen, Captain Picard."

Flint chuckled. "Right on, man!"

Ettwanae and Gatebi exchanged puzzled looks.

###

Den-neer was not disappointed their search turned up nothing. He hadn't anticipated success, but it had served to pass time. The other Eshaar'ne was too adept at eluding detection to have made the amateurish error of fleeing in a straight trajectory even when badly injured.

"Bae, return to Earth. Two rotational periods have nearly expired." Still silent compliance….it was wearing thin. Not that he wanted companionship from the Eshaar'ne, but an occasional break in the stillness of the ship would be welcome. "From this point forward, Bae, you will acknowledge my orders verbally," he ordered.

"As you command," came the terse response.

"Without the attitude."

"Yes."

The reply was flat and oh so neutral, but that he would accept. "You're continuing to monitor Earth System comlink communications?"

"Yes."

"And have nothing to report?"

"No."

"Upon arrival, hold us between the third and fourth planetary orbital paths in alignment with Earth. Make certain no one detects our presence."

"Understood."

Orders dispatched, he strolled to the ship's galley, which was well and generously stocked with his favorite food stuffs. One thing about Phai, she spared him no expense. Then he dived into his one and only hobby – cooking. In anticipation of things to come, he'd make himself a Rasilian specialty, Timpa Vek, which he found an especially pleasing mingling of sweetness and fiery spice.

###

_A/N: Are you reeling from information overload or was the chapter okay? Feedback would be so wonderfully nice. I know I've thrown a lot of stuff at you in C12, but it seemed logical that Warren would want to get up-to-speed as quickly as possible. Also, a good way to do the same for you, the reader. I understand a detailed style of writing isn't what everyone enjoys, but it's what I love when reading a book – it helps really immerse me in the make-believe world of the story and its characters. Hope you feel the same about this tale thus far._

_Until next time!_


	14. Chapter 13

_A/N: Interested in learning more about the Eshaar'ne species? Warren is. It's curiosity driven by the need to understand the capabilities of his new teammates, one of which includes the sentient ship. Let's find out what he learns. But first a peek at what someone else is up to..._

**Chapter 13**

Den-neer watched with satisfaction as scanners noted the target ship falling into orbit around Earth.

"Archangel keeps his vows and arrives as scheduled." A glance at the bridge control array told him Bae had scanned the other Eshaar'ne, but as expected, the data collected was extremely limited. "Your offspring appears to have recovered." Thick silence. "You will record any communications emanating from that ship and alert me immediately."

"Yes."

"And you will inform me if she shows any signs of sensing our presence."

"Yes." Another stiff acknowledgement.

"Although our combined technologies should make that impossible, wouldn't you agree?" He pushed.

"Theoretically."

Despite priding himself on being difficult to provoke, he was beginning to bristle. "Bae, you and I must work together whether you accept that or not. You will be more…pleasant."

"Yes, Den-neer."

Less terse and more than a single-word reply. He eased out of the bridge chair. "I anticipate they will go planetside shortly. Alert me as soon as that occurs."

"Acknowledged, Den-neer."

He gave the Eshaar'ne a small, appreciative smile. She was walking the line between the animosity and cordiality. Den-neer couldn't blame her. She'd been captured, painfully augmented, and her Other held hostage to ensure obedience to those she viewed as the mortal enemy of their people…not a situation anyone would react well to.

Then he dismissed all considerations of the living ship's mental conflicts. Imperative matters required his attention. Archangel was going to be at his most vulnerable once planetside. Den-neer had his orders – acquire the Human. His superiors needed what was in that body. Den-neer would not fail a second time.

###

After they put the leftovers away, save a couple zante, he'd dismissed everyone and turned his attention to Volu. He needed to understand the ship's capabilities.

"Have we arrived?"

"We have entered extended Earth orbit."

He expected that. After the attack, Volu hadn't been able to maintain FTL for long so the trip back was naturally equally short. Short, though, time-wise. A ship traveling far beyond the speed of light can go a long way in a matter of minutes.

"No sign of our attackers?"

"None, though my methods of detection are not-"

"-foolproof," Warren interrupted. "I remember."

"If they are planetside, my chances improve. When she is beyond the intense gravitational well, I cannot guarantee success."

"Understood. Just let me know if you sense anything that makes you suspicious. I can't help but feel they're lurking out there." He refilled his glass from the water spigot. "Now, though, I want to know more about you before we head down. Specifically, weapons, shields, etcetera. Okay with you?" he requested and quenched his thirst with a gulp.

"Of course."

"Start by telling me about your weapons." He settled back at the table and snatched up a zante. 'Gotta stop eating these things! Even I might put on weight if I continue to stuff my face like this,' he self-chastised, but it didn't prevent him from biting off a piece.

"You already know about my concussive burst."

He nodded and then reminded himself to ask how Volu saw or sensed movements and gestures. "Housed within a containment field, correct?"

"Yes. Therefore, it is directional not radiating, but only in a straight trajectory. The containment field also works as a penetrating force beam."

"That's how you drove the concussion blast down to the second level of the Etagllot's Hydeera facility."

"Correct."

"And how powerful is the force beam?"

"I can penetrate most materials common in this region of the galaxy. If weapons shielding is powerful enough, such as that used by space-faring vessels, it is more of a challenge. Theoretically, I can overcome the shielding generated by most if not all current technology."

"Theoretically?"

"Yes. Because of the nature of my power source, the shield technology of the races we've encountered should be vulnerable due to the inherent dimensional energy phase shift. I say theoretically, because fortunately I have had little opportunity to test the supposition."

Warren accepted that as he had no basis with which to agree or disagree – energy phase shift was beyond his understanding. "Your own shields, how powerful are they?"

"My sensor shielding thus far has been impenetrable. Weapons shields should protect us from current Imperial or Commonwealth technology. However, I am obviously vulnerable to the weapons of another Eshaar'ne." Her tone was laden with sorrow.

"Was the attack by the other ship unusual?" he speculated. 'Was that a quiver?' Warren wondered as he detected an ever so slight vibration underfoot.

"Eshaar'ne do not hurt other Eshaar'ne, as Eshaaru do not harm Eshaaru. It goes against our design. Until her. They have corrupted her; it is the only explanation. It greatly saddens and concerns me. Until the attack, I had faith she would never fire upon us. That faith has been shattered."

"I am sorry, Volu. Perhaps one day, she can be rescued and rehabilitated."

"Perhaps." Volu did not sound hopeful.

"She can detect you?"

"All Eshaar'ne can detect other Eshaar'ne, but only while not phased or shielded can detailed data be gathered. She is obviously using additional technology and, therefore, I am uncertain as to her full capabilities."

'So they may already know we're here if they hung around,' Warren concluded to himself. "What other weapons do you have?" he requested with a sip of water to wash down the sweet biscuit. 'Oh, for a cup of coffee!'

"The same energy that powers the containment field can be used on its own in varying degrees of intensity and zone of impact. I can focus very narrowly, equal to about the span of your hand, or in a wide dispersion that can cover an area roughly the breadth of…" she paused, likely searching for a reference Warren could easily relate to, "the Imperial Valley on Sat'rey."

"That's a broad area. What is the destructive power of the beam at that width?"

"Against typical building materials, near total destruction. A single burst against a Turzent battle carrier's shielding, should cause significant damage, but not full penetration."

"I'm impressed."

"The races of this sector are advancing their technology at a steady pace. There will come a time when I am not so impressive."

"We'll worry about that when and if the time comes," he offered to the concern in the Eshaar'ne's words. "What _is_ your power source for weapons?"

"While I can generate a significant amount of bio-energy, I augment that with energy from The Source."

"Explain."

"As you have learned, The Source is a reservoir of lifeforce energy, Aru, which comes from Ozshi'wanae. Her realm is a dimension separate from this one. Eshaar'ne open a small portal to that dimension and channel its energy, as do Eshaaru."

"The way we channeled it to heal you?"

"Yes, but my filters are different from Eshaaru. Eshaar'ne use The Source for weapons and shields."

"Is The Source unlimited?"

"The Source is, but like you and Ettwanae, there are limits to the amount I can channel without injury."

'A built-in failsafe by the U'larr?' he wondered. "Any other weaponry?"

"No. Eshaar'ne are not warriors, Warren. We were created to assist the Eshaaru in gathering knowledge. My weapons are defensive."

"So you have skills in other areas."

"Data mining. My purpose is to retrieve knowledge from species who use more advanced storage techniques."

"As in computers."

"Or other similar technology."

"You're a master hacker then." Warren used the American term, hoping Volu understood. The Turzent word he didn't know.

"That would be a fair comparison." The reply came without hesitation, telling Warren either Volu understood or she used a form of translator. "Volu, do you understand English without using a translator?" he said in his native language.

"I taught myself your language when we arrived here the first time," she voiced in perfect English.

Warren wasn't necessarily surprised – she _was_ a being designed to absorb information. "How many languages do you speak?"

"I am conversant in 23, including yours."

"I'm going to assume that you have total recall."

"Sections of my brain, yes. For example, the portions containing navigational information by necessity must have flawless recall. For that function, my memory works much like a computer. Other sections function more as yours does and my recollections aren't always complete. Unlike some species, my brain has no bias against voids and false memories are not created to fill gaps. Thereby, memory output is reliable, if not always total."

"How does the knowledge gathering work?"

"I have vast storage capability for holding collected data. That information would be uploaded to Etxan'Ir if Ettwanae and I were gatherers. However, I do not have access to or remember the mined data – that memory is for temporary storage only and not part of my consciousness. I use other parts of my brain for data I wish to recall."

"What if you wanted to recall everything you uploaded? Why not use the conscious portion of your memory?"

"My conscious memory has limits. If I exceed those, it will begin to overwrite existing memories."

"A circuit breaker? Otherwise, at some point, you'd be all-knowing. Perhaps to the point of being superior to your creators."

"A reasonable assumption."

Warren nodded. "Sounds like the U'larr engineered limits to their creation's abilities as failsafes." Then another thought came. "Why create the Eshaaru? Sounds like Eshaar'ne could handle the information gathering by themselves."

"There is knowledge that is only in the minds of the people. As one example, in T'Qilla and T'Azrued's memory node, they talk of seeking the wisdom of the Basti by drawing close to one of their spiritual leaders. It was implied that T'Qilla posed as Basti."

Warren's mind took the quick leap. "The image inducer?"

"Again, a reasonable conclusion, yet we have been unable to activate any image in Ettwanae's inducer other than Sat'reyan."

"Theories?"

"That she must become a gatherer for that capability to fully engage."

"Yet another failsafe? Allow the bearer to pass as a member of one known race, yet not become a chameleon unless fully indoctrinated into the predetermined role," Warren advanced the speculation.

Volu remained silent, perhaps also in contemplation, so Warren moved the discussion forward. "If I understand the picture correctly, the Eshaar'ne mine a planet's computers for hard data and the Eshaaru go after the soft data. How much time did a gathering party spend at a planet?"

"From what Ettwanae's parents recorded, sometimes several imperial weeks."

"It'd take a long time to make the rounds to all the sentient species."

"Hence, there were many gathering pairs in times past, but no longer." Her voice was heavy with melancholy.

"What happened?"

"The Shozen perhaps. We know they hunt our people."

"Why the feud?"

"That knowledge is lost to me. All we know of the conflict is from the node and the messages T'Qilla recorded for Ettwanae. She warned of the Shozen and that they would hunt Ettwanae. T'Qilla said the Shozen were chasing them and responsible for T'Azrued's disappearance and presumed death."

Hydeera jumped to mind. "How does the Etagllot enter into all this? Why did they want Ettwanae?"

"Unknown, though they appear to be involved in advanced biogenetics. Having her as a research subject would be highly desirable as Eshaaru are the result of genetic engineering at its ultimate."

That reminded Warren of the possibility he saw an image of Ettwanae's father. He'd save that for Ettwanae herself, but he'd pose his other thought from before. "Is it possible the Etagllot and Shozen are one and the same?"

"I have considered that possibility and the evidence suggests they are not. The node does not mention the Etagllot and thus I believe they are a newer threat. Their motives and methods appear dissimilar. Not once in my investigation has the two names been linked. In fact, there is no mention of the Shozen within the Turzent Empire or Commonwealth knowledge bases I have scanned. Extrapolations lead me to conclude the Shozen are technically superior to the Etagllot. It would take highly advanced technology to have systematically captured and destroyed our people. Additionally, if the Etagllot and Shozen were one and the same, I believe T'Qilla would have warned Ettwanae of that."

"But despite the superior technology, the Shozen messed up capturing Ettwanae on Sat'rey?"

"Only because I arrived in time."

"Did they display any unusual technology in that incident?" he pressed, still wondering if it was really the Etagllot.

"Not that I witnessed. However, her attackers' ability to track her movements amongst millions of Sat'reyans when she should have appeared Sat'reyan to scanners raises questions. We know the Etagllot on Hydeera were unable to breach her disguise."

"You know more than I do on the topic, so until we know differently, we'll assume they are two separate organizations."

"It worries me greatly that the Etagllot have an Eshaar'ne." Her tone spoke of dire consequences.

"Could they reverse engineer her?"

Heaviness settled over the galley. "Nothing is impossible, Warren." A long pause. "Why would she allow this to happen? She should have performed ru'zha as soon as captured."

Warren remained silent as he had no answers, no explanation. "All we can do is wonder, Volu. Let's get back to the task at hand – your capabilities. What else should I know?"

Volu took a few moments to respond. "My mode of faster-than-light travel is via dimensional phasing and works differently than what you are familiar with. For sublight movement, I manipulate gravitational wells."

That piqued his curiosity, but his mind was beginning to dull after the long day and two meetings of collecting and digesting a multitude of facts, despite a nap. "Let's talk more about that later. My brain is going into overload. Any other survival or tactical abilities I should be aware of?"

"One important ability. If food stores are depleted, I can keep Eshaaru alive indefinitely producing monle, a high-caloric, nutritionally dense mash specifically designed to sustain Eshaaru biology."

"I remember monle from one of the node memories you showed me of Ettwanae's parents. Do you know the affects on non-Eshaaru biology?"

"Weight gain and some nutritional deficiencies and overdoses, obviously depending on the species."

"So Ettwanae would be fine and the rest of us would likely be okay for awhile?"

Volu hesitated. 'Classified myself as non-Eshaaru and she's considering her reply,' Warren concluded.

"I believe your physiology to be similar enough to Ettwanae's that the monle would sustain you indefinitely as well."

'Diplomatic.' He was getting restless – too much sitting. Warren stood to stretch wings and legs, then began idling walking around the galley. "What's monle taste like?" He recalled T'Azrued seemingly didn't care for it.

"The spigot extrudes it. I will produce a small amount for you to try."

Within a minute, a whitish substance began to ooze out. Placing his hand beneath, a glob dropped into his palm. It looked similar to thick oatmeal in consistency and color. He dipped his finger into the substance and took a taste.

"It hasn't a lot of flavor, but what's there is nutty. A little on the gooey side. Can't say I'd like to eat this regularly."

"Emergency rations, Warren."

"Meant to sustain life, not provide a sublime culinary experience."

"Precisely."

"Anything else to share?"

"We have covered the fundamentals of my capabilities."

Warren was ready to ask the question he'd noted to himself earlier. "Can you see? I mean in the same way I do?"

"Yes, Warren. I have excellent visual acuity."

"Inside as well?"

"Are you asking if I can see you as you see me?"

"I am."

"I can."

"You see everywhere inside?" Warren heard what he thought was an amused modulation.

"Warren, your privacy will not be invaded. What you do in your chambers I do not see."

"And your other senses?"

"Within your chambers, I can hear and sense you, but will not intrude unless you address me. I respect privacy unless you request my presence or your health is in jeopardy. I am not a Peeping Tom."

Warren smiled. That term likely came from one person. "Flint asked these same questions, didn't he?"

"Not quite as delicately as you."

Warren laughed. "I can just about imagine!" He examined elements that formed the necessities of a ship's galley – counter, sink, water/monle spigot, and storage. A slightly protruding, rectangular outline caught his attention. Situated about waist high on the wall next to the counter, its surface had a different look to it – less solid. As he ran his hand across the surface, a membrane opened much like an eyelid. He peered in.

"A warming pod," the living ship explained. "Cooling pods are on the opposite wall."

Warren glanced to the far end of the counter. Another embossed rectangle broke the otherwise smooth surface of the wall, but much larger that the warming pod. "You feel my touch and activate the openings?"

"Not as you would experience a touch to your body. Opening the pod is an auto-response. I can control it consciously, but only if I concentrate."

"You mentioned you can tell if my health is in jeopardy. I assume via internal sensors."

"You assume correctly."

"Anything else about your internal senses?"

"For the purpose of our meeting, we have covered the most significant. My other functions are for creating and preserving a life-sustaining environment."

Warren ran his hand along the counter as he made his way to the cooling pod. Volu's internal surfaces were sensual, like supple leather. "Internal defenses? I've noticed the jabs you give Flint when he uses his nickname for you," Warren said with smile.

"Those are but minor bio-energy bursts meant to gain attention."

"Effective," he chuckled, sliding his hand across the cooling pod. Opening in the same fashion as the other pod, it revealed a stash of food and beverages. "How powerful can those attention-getters become?"

"Sufficient to stun most intruders."

"What else?" He pulled out a container of orangish liquid. The label was in a language he couldn't read.

"I can use sound to stun and disable."

Warren winced in remembered pain of that sound burst. "Any internal shields or force fields?" He returned the container to the pod, but wasn't sure how to signal the membrane to close.

"No."

Warren waved his hand in front of the cooling pod with no affect.

"Brush the top of the pod," Volu prompted. Warren did as instructed and the orifice closed its eyelid.

"Ettwanae's personal cloak…is there another one I could use?"

"Unfortunately, no. It was implanted by her parents and I have no such devices."

"Too bad. It could come in handy. Your weaknesses? In general…particularly compared to standard ships."

"As made obvious from the attack, I feel pain. That can be a hindrance. Aside from the limits of my shields and weapons, no unexpected weaknesses."

Volu's tone changed almost imperceptibly. Had he somehow offended the Eshaar'ne? Perhaps the opposite question for balance. "And your greatest strength?"

"I am alive. Unlike my AI counterparts, I love, I hate, become angry, sad, or happy – all the emotions you experience. Understanding my occupants' emotional state is a strength. My caring is not programming mimicry." Pride tinged the words. "But the U'larr gave me objectivity as well. I will make the hard choices necessary to protect my Other, though emotionally I may desire to take another action."

"In other words, you don't let your heart rule your head."

"If I understand the adage, you are correct."

Warren took a moment to once again marvel at Volu. A species bio-engineered as a space ship. A species that was viable, reproducing, and apparently symbiotic with another created species – the Eshaar'ne. The U'larr's technology and knowledge must have been almost god-like to pull it off. Then a yawn escaped. He was tired.

"Another question. When we healed you, why didn't you suppress what you call first mating in me like you did Ettwanae?"

"Because of how you described your manifestation of The Source. Ettwanae filters it through her enhanced healing ability and, therefore, she can heal physical injuries in others with the energy. You filter through your limbic brain, the area involving pleasure and sex. If I had suppressed first mating in you by numbing that portion of your brain, it would have interfered with your ability to channel Source energy. Numbing Ettwanae's limbic brain has no affect on her channeling ability."

"That explains things." Warren finally a reasonable explanation for the erotic nature of his ability. "And I'm not unique? Ettwanae said she'd heard of my form of channeling."

"She learned that from me. My medical knowledge describes several forms of channeling by Eshaaru, including yours."

Warren stiffened at the implication her in reply, but he let it pass. He didn't feel like defending his Humanity yet again. "I'll have more questions without a doubt, Volu, but for now I'm done unless there's something you want to add."

"We have covered everything of relevance to your purpose."

"Any questions for me?" Warren wondered what the ship was considering as the seconds passed in silence.

"Only one, Warren." Another shorter pause. He waited. "Can I trust you?"

His warning to Ettwanae sprang instantly to mind. Had that troubled the Eshaar'ne more than he had intended? "You can trust me to do as I say I'll do. And while I am joining the search for my own purposes, I will not jeopardize any of you to accomplish that end. You can trust me to be honorable – to do the right thing."

The ship was again quiet before responding. "I will hold you to that, Warren Worthington. Trust in this – I will protect my Other above all else, with my very life if need be. Ettwanae is my entire reason for being. I will not tolerate anyone harming her physically or otherwise."

Warren appreciated the straightforwardness. "Understood, Volu." He moved back over to the table, grabbed up the plate, and placed it in the sink. As he drew his hand away, a membrane closed over the dishes and he could faintly hear a buzzing sound. 'Ultra-sonic washing, like the clothes cleaning pod,' he concluded. Leaving the galley, Warren made a mental note to ask sometime about the term "my Other."

Satisfied with what he'd accomplished in the meetings, Warren decided it was time to take care of business planetside. "Volu, I'd like to head down to Earth at your earliest convenience."

"Then I will notify Ettwanae of your wish to do so. It is nighttime, though, where your home resides. Do you wish to rest first?"

Warren let out a heavy sigh as the depth of his fatigue hit. "I do. It's been a long, eventful day. Where are the others?"

"Sleeping."

As he headed to the gathering room to crash, Warren consciously push aside all thoughts, worries, and strategizing. What he had to accomplish on Earth required him to be well rested. He stretched out on the comfortable lounger.

"Good night, Volu."

"Good night, Warren."

###

_A/N: I know this was another information-dense chapter, but I hope you came away with a better understanding of Volu. I have to admit, Volu is right up there with Moit'de and Atichi from the previous books as a favorite supporting character. I'd like to hear your thoughts on her. How is Volu coming across, does she seem realistic, is her personality different enough from the other characters to set her apart? _

_I can take well thought out criticism – got a pretty tough shell. Your opinions and thoughts on how the story and characters are playing out will make me a better writer. In later chapters, I may prompt you for the same sort of feedback on the other cast members as well, but feel free anytime to share your observations on characterizations._

_Looking forward to hearing from you…reviews and emails keep me motivated to pump out the chapters. I am so blessed to have such incredible, intelligent readers. Thank you for sharing in my make-believe world!_


	15. Chapter 14

_A/N: Remember what I said in C12 about the hardcore editing being done? Well, this chapter proved me wrong. Having been away from C14 while editing the rest of the book, when I came back to it, I realized a major overhaul was necessary. Funny how concepts and little tidbits written further on in the story impact previous segments. Such was the case here. A couple of contradictions and flaws in logic and you have to rewrite an entire chapter. Luckily, I caught it before posting this chapter in its original form. I've mentioned before the really hard work is in the editing, not writing the original draft, right? This little incident proves the point all over again._

_C14's focus is exploring the similarity between Eshaarus and Humans through Ettwanae's POV. Questions abound. Meanwhile, Den-neer's focus is his mission – retrieve Archangel._

**Chapter 14**

Warren concluded that the biggest problem with the small ship was the lack of a shuttle. Volu needed to land relatively close to where her non-winged occupants wished to go unless Warren or Ettwanae played air taxi. Her bay was certainly large enough for a small skimmer. 'Ground transport issues can be evaluated later,' he decided. Right then, they needed to drop off Flint near his home on the outermost fringes of the Milwaukee, Wisconsin, metro area.

Volu deftly avoided detection by NORAD and other eyes in the sky, but Warren was primarily concerned about SHIELD, which employed more sophisticated scanners to protect Earth from extraterrestrial intrusion. If they were challenged, Warren hoped his name and X-man status carried enough weight to let them pass, albeit likely with escorts. That scenario, however, would include unwelcome questions he'd have to dodge. With her advanced U'larr technology and a little old-fashioned stealth thrown in, Volu slipped passed everyone. Wrapped in her phase field, they remained invisible as she touched down in an open field not far from Flint's home.

A slightly worried looking teenager stood in front of the open bay door, duffle in hand. "You won't forget to come back for me, right? I'm just visiting Mom, not stayin'. Ettwanae…Volu – you know that, don't ya?"

Ettwanae closed the gap between them and placed her hands on Flint's shoulders. "We won't leave you, I promise." She gave him a quick hug and then stepped back. "Remember to keep the comlink with you at all times in case we need to reach you. Be careful about how much you say about us. Stay in the general area – don't go far." Flint rolled his eyes with the maternal instructions. "Now go visit your mother and have a good time. We'll be back at this very spot in two days as agreed. Don't _you_ forget." She smiled widely.

"Not a chance!" Flint assured as he turned and bounded out the hatch. With a quick wave, he trotted off through the field.

"Goddess, I hope he's careful."

"He understands the importance of caution, Ettwanae." Gatebi studied the Eshaaru's face, touched by show of protectiveness.

Tender feelings toward the winged alien also washed over Warren and he smiled when her eyes caught his. "Next stop Centerpoint, Long Island. Volu, if you would."

The bay door dilated closed, followed by the ever so slight sensation of movement. Within minutes, the same scene played over again, only at the outer reaches of Worthington manor in a small clearing nestled amongst its woodlands. Warren stood outside and looked back to Ettwanae standing just inside Volu.

"You are welcome to join me – both of you."

Ettwanae had her arms wrapped around herself protectively, her face revealing worry. "No, Gatebi and I will stay with Volu. I don't want to leave her alone." Then she took an almost hesitant step to the bay threshold. "Come back," she requested in a near whisper.

He looked her straight in the eyes. "I keep my word, Ettwanae," he assured. With a leap and downbeat, he winged toward the estate house.

###

She watched him until her keen eyes could no longer follow beyond the wooded knoll and shivered, but not from cold. Ettwanae feared he would change his mind or that others would convince him to stay on Earth. If she looked at the situation from an outside perspective, his decision was rash and foolhardy. Their chance of success was slim. Even if they found Etxan'Ir, what were the odds they'd find a cure for the nannites? No way to know. As for breaking Ztar's bond to Warren…another long shot. No, from anyone else's viewpoint, Warren was making a choice to join strangers on a mission with almost no hope of gaining what he wanted. She was certain whomever he told would point that out.

As if sensing her fears, Gatebi approached and placed a hand over hers that still clutched her arms close. "He will return. Do not worry."

Ettwanae gave her friend a single nod. "Volu, if you feel secure here, we'll remain. If not, we should return to orbit."

"We are safe for now."

Ettwanae soughed. "It feels empty."

Gatebi tilted her head and gave Ettwanae's hand a quick squeeze before releasing it. "Indeed. Yet with Flint gone for a while, it will be a peaceful interlude," she offered with a grin. Ettwanae couldn't help but chuckle. The mood lightened, they headed up to the main level.

Ettwanae grabbed a snack from the galley and went to her room, crawled on the bed, and lean against the wall at its head, knees pulled up. She felt like isolating herself within her chamber's warmth and comfort. It would likely be a long couple of days waiting for Warren's return. Already, the separation was tugging at her.

While she was tempted to join him at his residence, another part of her wanted to remain distant from it. He claimed this world as home. This planet he averred as his genetic heritage. Her heart told her otherwise. Everything about him said Eshaaru, yet other things – little things – cast an ever so slight doubt on his Eshaaru origins, or least the purity of it. A deep scan by Volu of his DNA could resolve the doubt, but he had forbid it. Volu was honoring that command.

'If you're honest with yourself, Ettwanae, you are frightened of what Volu will find,' she confessed to herself. 'Frightened that he may be right. That he is simply similar enough to fool your own Eshaaru essence into believing he is what you want him to be.'

Taking a slow bite of the zante, she tipped her head back against the wall. 'Does it matter if he's not Eshaaru?' she questioned. 'We _are_ connected; we are soulbounds for a reason. Perhaps Ozshi'wanae is telling us his heritage isn't important, or that I should go on faith that he is as he appears…to trust.'

"What are you thinking about, my Poda?" The question entered the room gently.

"One guess, my Other."

"Warren."

"Yes."

"He will return," the Eshaar'ne affirmed.

"The pull of his friends and home will be strong. They may convince him this is all folly."

Volu was silent for several heartbeats. "Desiring freedom from the foreign technology is not folly. That possibility will drive him to return, amongst other reasons."

"Other reasons meaning me."

"Yes. You are soulbounds. That is undisputable."

"It's the disputables that worry me, Volu. What if this is some wild misunderstanding? What if he is what he says he is? What if he's not Eshaaru?"

"I will not say that is impossible since the universe is filled with the seemingly impossible. The external indicators all say he is Eshaaru, but the anomaly in his lifeforce pattern raises questions. Yet your Aru and Ura recognize him as like kind and claim him as your soulbound. That should not be possible without the Eshaaru species marker."

"Then how?"

"Perhaps enough of his energy is Eshaaru pattern, though why your Ura is accepting of his missing species marker is a mystery."

"Maybe it is meant to be. Maybe Ozshi'wanae means for us to be together."

"That is as valid an explanation as any."

Ettwanae took a bite of her zante and munched in silence, contemplating questions without answers. "If that's true, then why the bond with Ztar?"

"Only Ozshi'wanae would know. However, coupled with his desire to be cleansed of the nannites, Warren has two powerful motivators to help us find Etxan'Ir."

She shook her head at the contradictions. "If she wants us to be together, it makes no biological sense – if we cannot consummate, we cannot breed. We know Eshaaru are near extinction. Wouldn't she want me to be with a mate that can give me a child?"

"It does seem counter-productive."

Ettwanae took in a deep breath, "Or perhaps there are no more of my kind. Perhaps he is the only possibly – close enough – and she brought us together to find Etxan'Ir."

"Close enough in this case, my Poda, would mean he is of mixed genetics. But since Eshaaru cannot breed with anyone except their own kind…"

"…a half-breed should not exist. If not for the false bond with Ztar, we'd be like any other Eshaaru pair – his missing marker is apparently irrelevant."

Volu was quiet for too long, and Ettwanae began to wonder if something was wrong. She was about to ask, when the Eshaar'ne broke the silence.

"A dying race can become desperate for a way to save their species. Desperation can lead to unorthodox methods."

"What are you thinking, Volu?" Ettwanae stopped chewing.

"That there are possibilities I did not previously consider."

"Such as?"

"Such as seeding genetic material within other similar species. Humans bear an amazing resemblance to Eshaaru – almost too much so. That alone raises profound questions."

Ettwanae sat up in attention. Scenarios started coming to her in rapid succession, but she wanted Volu's opinion before formulating any hypothesis of her own. "We know the Eshaaru are a constructed species. Is it possible the U'larr used ancient Humans as an ingredient in the genetic recipe? Could that be a reason why my Ura and Aru accept him even if he _is_ Human?"

"Quite possible. And if other Eshaaru realized that, they could have gone back to Humans as a path to avoid extinction by placing the seed of Eshaaru DNA."

Ettwanae let the scenario play out in her mind. "But if that were true, we should see many winged Humans. Warren himself mentioned others similar to him. Volu, can you find out more?"

"Comnet information about Earth does not mention winged beings, but neither does it mention the proliferation of mutants we know exist. I will search Earth databases."

"You've told me before that you don't know any details about our genetic origins."

"Sadly, my Poda, that is true. The Eshaaru history node or Etxan'Ir may contain that data, but I do not."

"May Ozshi'wanae curse the people who took the nodes from the repository!" she fumed. So much of her past was stolen in that act of vandalism. What more of her heritage was taken, she may never know. The unknowing burned to her soul.

"Many hypotheses spin off the possibility that Human DNA played a role in Eshaaru creation. I will research what Humans know of their genome, as well."

Ettwanae nodded absentmindedly...wild possibilities were running through her mind – cross-breeding, even forced or stealth impregnation of Human females. Technologically, it would be a straightforward process _if_ Humans and Eshaaru were genetically compatible. Morally, though, would her people have gone that far? Eshaaru cannot be cloned, that much they knew. A failsafe built into their genetic structure. The DNA degraded significantly with even a single replication to the point of being nonviable according to Volu's medical knowledge.

Faced with too few breeding pairs, did her people become desperate to the point of using another species as surrogates? Maybe one of the original DNA donor races? Was one of those races Human? Was Warren a half-breed? If yes, why was he left on Earth separate from the Eshaaru? Were the Shozen threat to blame? Did the Eshaaru hide Warren in plain sight on a planet full of mutants? Were there others? Had someone planned to return for him? Or was he left to wait unwittingly for another Eshaaru to find him? Was Ettwanae that Eshaaru? She shook her head. The questions became bigger and more profound the more she contemplated and her mind swam with imaginings.

"What are your thoughts?" Volu broke softly into her ponderings.

"That there may be much more going on that we know or can imagine…that Warren may be only a small piece of a far greater plan." Ettwanae rubbed her temples to stop the cascade of questions. "We know so little…it's all jumbled and chaotic. None of it makes sense."

"We are but small creatures seeking order amongst the apparent disorder, my Poda. What we perceive as chaos may simply be random glimpses of greater workings. With Ozshi'wanae's guidance, we will find answers."

"I hope you're right. Instincts tell me we're being guided or manipulated. Whether it's by forces for good or evil is the question."

"Or forces of both."

Ettwanae hugged her knees tight, pulling her wings forward to form a momentary cocoon. "That is even more distressing." She dropped the wings back to her sides. "Is it safe for me to stretch my wings, Volu?" she asked, feeling the need to take a break from complex contemplations.

"From what I'm learning, this planet has many beings of amazing abilities, including various modes of flight. Not all are of honorable intent. Stay near. If I call, return immediately."

"I will," she said bounding off the bed. "It'll feel so good to get into the sky."

Leaving her quarters, she ducked her head into the gathering room. Gatebi was there reading – her usual pastime. "I'm heading up," she advised, using her code for pleasure flight.

"Enjoy," the Alcab said without looking from her PI.

Ettwanae smiled as she headed to the lower level. Gatebi sometimes lived more in her books than in the real world. Her feet never touching the planet called Earth, Ettwanae sprang into its warm air. She wondered if Warren's homeland was always such, or if it was the warm season. Gaining altitude, she scanned the countryside with sight so acute that without trying, she spotted a small animal scurrying across a roadway some distance away.

With powerful beats, snow-white wings lifted her aloft until she saw a large building over the knoll. 'Warren's home? Has to be. Goddess, so big!' But then Flint did say that Warren was very wealthy. Coming to a hover, she scanned the immaculately manicured grounds, the fine detail of the mansion's architecture, the colorful flowers that were everywhere. Fountains, sculptures, outdoor sitting and eating areas were scattered throughout the gardens. 'Beautiful.' For a moment, she regretted not accompanying Warren, but she pushed it aside and focused on enjoying her first leisurely taste of Earth.

Looking around, she took in what Warren called Long Island. Apparently, the territory named America was subdivided into provinces. If Long Island was indicative of his America, it was a fertile land. Rolling hills, lushly green, dotted with many large homes and other buildings. She knew, too, that not too far away was a very large city where Warren's business endeavors were headquartered. He mentioned he may need to visit that facility before they left Earth. Venturing higher, she spied water and land beyond.

She took a deep breath of Earth's air. It smelled of things growing, hints of something salty mingled with the unmistakable odors of a civilization that polluted its atmosphere. She expanded her senses to feel the magnetic field of the planet. The tug to her right would be the strongest pole. 'Should ask Warren if he can feel the magnetic flow, too.'

Risking greater distance between her and Volu, she soared higher for a more expansive look. Before her was water meandering around juts and peninsulas of land, the undulating shoreline offering sandy beaches. Beyond the stretch of water was land much more densely populated with structures of all sizes and shapes. Behind her, the island rose up and then down again to the opposite shore. Beyond that, she saw nothing but blue water.

She watched people stroll along the beaches and water vehicles folic on the waves. People were having fun, enjoying life, basking in the Earth system's yellow sun, tossing their cares away for a few hours, maybe longer. A touch of envy swept through her. 'Wish it was me,' she yearned wistfully. 'No Shozen, no Etagllot, no quests or puzzles to be solve. To just…be.'

Closing her eyes, she imagined her and Warren flying carefree in the sunlight as the wind caressed them and the skies called their names, beckoning 'come play within me.' Their children would dart and dash around them in a game of catch-me-if-you-can, laughing the joyful laugh of innocence as they rode the winds.

Sighing and opening her crystalline-blue eyes, she began a series of aerial maneuvers she'd created when still quite young, pretending to be chasing a pequek, one of Sat'rey's few flighted creatures. After a while, she grew tired of the imaginary chase and dived toward the ground, pulling out of her plunge just in time, swooshing the tops of the tall plants and startling a group of winged animals. She looked at them more closely with keen vision – their wings and feathers were very much like hers. In fact, nearly identical.

She reached out with her mind. / _Volu?_ / She felt the acknowledging mental touch. / _I'm seeing flying animals with wings that look a lot like mine, right down to the feather pattern. Would you research them? There may be a connection to what we were discussing earlier. _/

While Volu performed her data mining, Ettwanae played a bit longer in the blue firmament before curiosity overtook and she headed in, eager to learn what Volu discovered.

###

Warren spent only a short time at the family estate before deciding to head to the X-mansion. He considered whether to request escort in light of the Etagllot threat. If the renegade Eshaar'ne and the mysterious telepath/telekinetic was lying in wait, he was no match for them alone. 'It's only a short flight – will take just minutes,' he argued against caution. He decided to alert Charles to his departure and reply on the man's telepathic monitoring and X-man tracking technology to ensure his safety.

And so a brief phone call later, Warren was ready for the first item on his to-do list. If Charles wasn't willing to act once again in Warren's stead at Worthington Industries, it changed all other plans. Hence, Xavier was top priority. As he rose above the manicured estate lawns, his couldn't help but look in Volu's direction. Sharp vision quickly caught a white-winged figure in the sky above the ship. His heart skipped a beat in momentary fear Ettwanae would be exposed, but then he reminded himself of Volu's superior technology – the Eshaar'ne would detect anyone approaching long before Ettwanae was endangered, as long as she stayed close.

Longing quickly replaced fear. He admired the graceful beauty of what appeared to be aerial exercises. 'Funny, she does the same thing I do,' he mused. He watched for a few mesmerized moments, allowing himself to feel her pull, his desire for her, before shaking himself loose from the spell. 'Time to get moving.' He darted off in the direction of Salem Center for the short 30-mile flight across Long Island Sound and over a piece of Connecticut to Westchester County.

###

"Archangel is airborne with a trajectory toward the Xavier Mansion," Bae announced.

As soon as the other Eshaar'ne had gone planetside, they had moved into near Earth orbit. Then when Volu landed outside Archangel's estate, Den-neer ordered Bae to position herself above that location in the upper fringes of Earth's atmosphere.

"Move us to within my telepathic and telekinetic range of the target. I will take it from there," he commanded, wasting no time getting to the lower level next to the bay hatch. Den-neer would simply stun Archangel with a telepathic burst and then pluck the unconscious body from the air. Simple. Quick. It was a tactic he should have used during the previous attempt, he felt in hindsight.

Then he remembered his orders. "Inform Elder Phai of the pending capture."

"Acknowledged."

###

"What I learned is very intriguing," Volu announced as Ettwanae settled into her bridge chair. "The flying creatures are called Aves by the Human scientific community. And you were right – the wing structure and feather formation are amazingly similar to as yours. I ran a comparative scan between you and one of the birds flying nearby."

Volu paused for effect, causing Ettwanae to chuckle. Sometimes Volu was a bit dramatic. "And…"

"And there are matches to certain sequences of your genetic code."

Ettwanae grew excited. "You mean we may have found a source species?"

"That would seem to be the case. The birds as they are commonly called are many and varied. Let me show you." Volu sounded excited as well.

A holographic collage of images popped up and birds in a multitude of markings, colors, shapes, sizes surrounded her. Ettwanae stared at them in awe. "They're beautiful!"

"Indeed they are. If I were looking for genetic material for winged flight, I would come to this planet – choices abound." The pictures faded and a detailed image of an internal wing structure materialized. "Here is the structure from a bird called a peregrine falcon." Another scan image sprang up. "Here is your wing structure."

"Nearly identical!"

"There is more, Ettwanae." The images winked out to be replaced by two side-by-side flight feathers. "Can you guess which is yours?"

Ettwanae looked back and forth between the two. "I can't see any differences."

"Precisely. Yours is on the right and one from a falcon is to the left."

Ettwanae was stunned. It was more than she could have imagined. "Volu, this is amazing! Do you think we really have found the ancestors of Eshaaru flight?"

"I believe it is a strong possibility."

Thoughts turned to the man over the knoll. "Warren says he is a Human mutant. His wings are identical to mine. Is he part falcon?"

"I cannot answer definitively without comparing the genetic codes. Humans have mapped their genome and I compared that against the map in my medical files of Eshaaru DNA. What I found strengthens our hypothesis – there are identical sequences."

Ettwanae took in a sharp breath. "Does that mean Humans _are_ the donor race?"

"More accurately, one of several donor species. I found limited genome mapping of Aves and again, certain sequences are a match. However, there are many sequences in Eshaaru DNA that match neither Human or Aves."

"What about Warren?"

Volu sighed. "He has forbidden me to scan him any further and I have abided by that and have no answer. Meanwhile, his lifeforce obviously reads as Eshaaru. If it did not, Aru and Ura would have rejected him."

"Did you find anything about other winged Humans?"

"There is mention of several others, but little medical data with which to run comparisons. Also many of Earth's religions depict winged beings astonishingly similar in appearance to Eshaaru. The data is building in favor of two theories – Humans were a donor race and Eshaaru DNA was seeded within the Human population at some point in the past. Yet there is a larger question."

Volu stopped there, forcing Ettwanae to prompt for more. "Which is?"

"Why so many of the races in this region of the galaxy look fundamentally the same."

"You're right! Like variations on the same theme. The hand of a single creator? Ozshi'wanae?"

"Or that of her creation."

"The U'larr," Ettwanae whispered as the full impacts of that single concept swept over her.

"I'd like to discuss everything with Warren, but I fear he would not be open to all aspects, particularly any suggestions that he is Eshaaru."

"I concur. In time, he may agree to allow me to deep-scan his DNA for the answer. Until then, let us keep our contemplations and theories to ourselves."

Moving a wing forward, she extended its reach to spread the feathers and study with careful scrutiny. She ran a hand along the leading edge. "Falcon wings…maybe." She held her enthusiasm in check. "A very real possibility, right Volu?"

"Yes, Poda."

She stroked the brilliantly white wing, marveling in its structure and the joyful gift it gave. "It is amazing what the U'larr did, isn't it? To take raw genetic material, blend it, give it life - Aru, grant us our abilities and gifts…all blessed with Ura from Ozshi'wanae herself."

"Truly amazing – the art of creation realized in _her_ original creation, the U'larr. Together, they brought us forth – each for the other in a wondrous conjoining."

"What did they look like, Volu? The U'larr?" She thought it odd she'd never asked that question before.

"The ancient knowledge says they were corporeal yet not…beings of her light, but also of physical existence."

"Maybe they glowed all the time how Warren and I glow when we channel together."

"That is a possibility, my Other. A beautiful possibility."

###

_A/N: Feedback time, if you will. Was this interesting? Not so much? To me it didn't seem reasonable that Ettwanae and Volu wouldn't consider and explore the questions raised in this segment, but what do you think?_

_Next time: Den-neer closes in._


	16. Chapter 15

_A/N: Not much final editing needed on this one, so decided to go ahead and post. Let's see what Den-neer is up to._

**Chapter 15**

Bae shot down through the atmosphere. Archangel's apparent destination was not that far from his home and speed was essential. Den-neer was well aware of the type of beings that resided in the innocuous-looking learning institute located on a sprawling estate in the countryside. He did not wish to complicate matters by encountering them. No, he would take Archangel as far from the X-men headquarters as possible.

"30 seconds to target," Bae counted down.

###

Warren winged across Long Island Sound with a glance to his left at New York City. If all went well with Charles, destination two would be his private and corporate attorneys in Manhattan. Once everything was in order there, Worthington Tower was next to face his Board President. The man would not be happy about yet another extended absence. In fact, the whole Board would likely be up in arms. Again. As would his attorneys. As would his Foundation Board.

He shook his head. 'Ain't nobody gonna be happy,' he lamented wryly. Warren had been back home for about a year after being on Sat'rey the prior year. Before that, he'd been barely involved with the Worthington Industries and his charity, spending much of his time managing the finances of the X-men and wallowing in depression over Ztar's remote yet iron-fisted control over his life and actions during the Turzent/Commonwealth war. Prior to that, he'd spent a hellish year aboard the emperor's spaceship as the then sadistic, self-gratification-driven ruler enslaved him, holding Earth as hostage to ensure Warren's complete submission.

Two years off planet (because of Ztar) plus over three years in near seclusion at the X-mansion (again because of Ztar) equaled a lot of time away from his business. He'd tried to make up for it the past twelve months and managed to mend many bridges. 'Now another indeterminate absence. The repercussions may not be pretty,' he thought grimly, but would not waiver from his decision. 'Short-term losses for potential long-term gains.'

He cast his eyes down to the water below. Sheffield Island passed by and Tavern Island was coming up. Beyond that, the mainland. 'Making good time – not a lot of headwind.' A sudden tingle pass through him, almost unnoticeably. His eyebrows raised in alertness, he looked around but saw nothing. Pulling up to a hover, he thoroughly swept the sky in a 360 with eyes that missed very little. Still nothing.

###

Charles Xavier greatly anticipated seeing Warren. When the phone call came that he'd returned safely to Earth, Charles breathed a huge sigh of relief. His worst fear was that Warren would once again be taken from them and whisked away to distant stars. The nightmarish ordeal with Ztar still burned painfully in Charles' soul. Warren had nobly forgiven both Charles and Ztar. Charles hadn't been quite so magnanimous with himself.

But his nerves were on edge after the call. Warren's tone didn't sit right. Not that his old friend intended for that to be the case. No, it was simply Charles knowing Warren very well. And Charles felt his edginess had nothing to do with the request to monitor Warren's flight to the mansion. "The Etagllot may still be lurking," the winged man explained. That wasn't it. He believed something else was nudging his instincts.

Charles expanded his mind to watch over Warren while the highly advanced scanners of the X men's fortress monitored his flight path. Thus far, nothing out of the ordinary.

Suddenly, Charles mentally saw/felt Warren come to an abrupt halt and his heart jumped. He cast a broader net of awareness around his former student / X-man, but couldn't be certain. A whisper…ghost…? What? He strained and listened with his incredibly powerful mental senses.

'Was I wrong about the source of my uneasy?' he questioned. A quick review of the scanner readings showed nothing new, yet Warren had come to a stop.

Charles prepared to link mentally with Warren and his X-men.

###

Den-neer sensed a presence at the periphery of his mental shielding. Hidden behind that and Bae's phase cloak, they should have been invisible to mental probing, yet someone was seeking.

"5 seconds to target."

"Open the bay door," he commanded, anchoring himself as to not slip out the hatch. Shields would prevent hurricane force winds from whipping through the bay, but if he lost footing, they would not stop him from falling. In theory, he could halt a death plunge telekinetically, but he chose not to test it.

"Acknowledged."

As the hatch dilated open, he immediately caught sight of the target. Archangel had unexpected come to a stop. Why didn't matter, unless...

"Anyone or thing approaching?"

"No."

"Hold position." Den-neer prepared to mindblast his target and reel him in. He focused on the man hovering in the sky, wings beating and head turning, obviously checking his surroundings. 'Archangel senses something…impressive.'

###

Volu stirred – not physically, but mentally. An unexplained sadness washed over her. The feeling had a distance about it. The emotion wasn't hers. She checked Ettwanae. Not her. Puzzled, she double scanned their surroundings. Nothing. She focused in on Warren's progress. He'd come to a halt in the air near the opposite shoreline. Odd.

###

Den-neer gathered his mental energies, focused on the target, and-

"Stop, Den-neer!" Bae's voice reverberated through the bay despite the absorptive quality of her interior.

Startled, Den-neer nearly tumbled out the hatch, just managing to catch himself. The bay door snapped shut inches from his face.

"Bae! What are you _doing_?" He allowed anger to explode and prepared to unleash the gathered energy at the Eshaar'ne.

"Elder Phai commed. You are _not_ to take Archangel. I have been instructed to return to orbit."

Den-neer blinked in disbelief and let the psy force dissipate. "What? _Why_? Another moment and I would have had him!"

"She did not explain. I did not ask."

###

Three individuals in three separate locations wondered in puzzlement. Whatever was there had vanished abruptly without a trace. Warren continued on to Westchester believing it was only stress. Charles continued to monitor until his friend touched down on mansion lawn and only then breathed a sigh of relief, and Volu pondered the fleeting, unexplained emotion.

###

A short while later in his office, Charles allowed his face to reveal disbelief as the reason for his earlier unease became apparent. "Warren, help me to understand. This alien says she's an Eshaaru, a member of a race of beings long thought vanished. She tells you there is a vast library containing the knowledge of hundreds if not thousands of races from across the galaxy that may hold the answer to removing the nannites from you, but she has no evidence of that being the case and no idea where this Etxan'Ir is or even where to start looking. They have shown little to collaborate Etxan'Ir is anything but a legend or a construct of their own devices. Now you plan to go with her to destinations unknown to find it." Charles shook his head. "Do you hear how lu-" he almost said ludicrous, "how improbable it all sounds?"

"I know it sounds crazy, Charles, but if there's a chance I can be free of nannites, I have to at least check it out."

"Didn't you say that Ettwanae and her ship are telepathic? Don't you think perhaps it makes more sense that they have found that desire in your mind and are using it to convince you to leave with them willing? That they have hidden motives? That is an enticing trap? Don't you think it rather amazing that she looks so much like you?"

"I'm not letting a pretty pair of wings blind me, Charles!" It came out much more harshly than intended. "Sorry," he offered. "She's only telepathic with the ship. I don't believe they have ulterior motives or that this is some convoluted trap. My instincts tell me she is being honest. If they wanted to abduct me, they had their chance when I was unconscious. They could have locked me up and taken me anywhere. I believe Ettwanae."

"Taking you forcibly would be problematic. It would be far easier if you went willingly – worth the price of an elaborate fabrication." Charles rolled closer to the former X-man sitting on the couch in his office. "Warren, step back. Look at the situation with detached perspective. What would you tell me if I came to you with such a story?"

He didn't want to argue. He'd come only to inform and ask his favor, not seek Charles' blessing. Yet deep down, perhaps that is what he wanted from his old friend and mentor. For Charles to tell him that he wasn't acting irrationally and impulsively; that his decision had at least some merit.

"Charles, I understand your concern and I appreciate it, but you haven't experienced what I have the past few days. Ettwanae and I – it's like nothing I've ever felt before. We're connected somehow and I want to pursue that more fully as well. Most importantly, there may be a chance for me to be finally and completely free of Apocalypse. If I don't try, I'm not sure I can live with the regret."

"And if they are controlling you? What if she isn't as she appears? If it's all lies? If they take you and keep you, then what?"

Warren managed a small smile. "Then I trust you, the X-men, and Ztar will come looking for me. I will stay in touch, Charles, I promise. If you stop hearing from me, then you should worry. Not before."

Charles sighed deeply as he searched Warren's eyes and brushed his mind ever so subtly. He sensed no mind control, no loss of sanity, nothing for him to use as an excuse to detain Warren at the mansion. It left him almost angry. He'd try one other approach. "Didn't you recently tell me your life was finally back on track and you were feeling at peace with yourself? That the Foundation is fulfilling work, as is Worthington Industries? Are you willing to put that all aside for this…this quest that has so little chance of success?"

"I did, and it is true, yet there are two things unfinished in my life. One is to be completely free of Apocalypse and I can never do that as long as his technology resides within me. What if he or something else forces the nannites to reactivate? Then what? All I've worked so hard to accomplish could be lost. I don't want to live under that cloud anymore."

"And the second thing?"

"To find someone to share the rest of my life with. You know my luck in that arena, Charles. Ettwanae is different – she's not a mutant. She's separate from all the pain and the turmoil of my life here. Perhaps that is exactly what I need to finally have long-term happiness with someone. I need to look elsewhere for love instead of the same old places I have in the past. I've repeated that behavior too many times and it has always failed." Then he smiled his best for the dear friend with the worried face sitting before him. "Sometimes I'm a little slow on the uptake, but I may have finally figured out what the universe has been trying to teach me. Look in a new direction. Complete the fresh start I began a year ago. My soul tells me that Ettwanae may be that new direction."

Charles studied Warren for many moments, wishing he could justify a deeper peek inside the mind of his almost son. On the surface, Warren looked happy. The feelings radiating from the man were a mix of hope and anticipation.

Warren reached out and rested a hand on Charles' forearm. "Trust me, Charles. I know what I'm doing. While my decision may seem impulsive and rash, I thought it through carefully. I want do this for me. And the bonus is I won't be doing it alone. You should meet her. She is remarkable."

Warren's eyes lit up when he spoke of Ettwanae. Charles' empathic senses filled with swirls of tenderness. It was obvious Warren had amorous feelings for her. Perhaps he should let it be.

"Very well, my friend. I will trust your judgment. Ztar is a perfect example of your ability to see in people what others miss. You were right about him and I will not doubt your judgment of Ettwanae."

"Thank you, Charles." Warren gripped the elder man's arm tightly, then released it. "I just need you to step into my shoes once again. Are you willing?" The man Warren had known since he was 16 and clueless nodded agreement. "Then I will contact the attorneys and reactivate the power of attorney. You needn't worry about the Foundation, others will handle that. Same scenario as last time."

"Same as the last time you left this Earth. How far will my feathered friend fly into the heavens this time?" Charles wondered more to himself than anyone else.

Warren smiled warmly. "No telling, but I'll send postcards." Then tears suddenly formed and he blinked them back. "You are like a father to me, Charles. I love you and always will." The words tumbled out with a will of their own. Was he saying a forever goodbye? Oddly, it was what it felt like. Yet that wasn't his intent. Not consciously.

He watched the man's reaction. The body went stiff. He could see a hard swallow. Those were the only indications that perhaps Charles detected the same undertone.

"Contact me every ten Earth days?"

"Or there's about. Don't be too alarmed if it's a day or two more. I'll be taking my PI and contacting you through the comlink. You still have both, yes?"

Charles nodded. "When do you leave?" He rolled over to his desk to retrieve Warren's PI.

"As soon as I've notified the law office, the Boards, and pack a few things. A couple days likely. I'm heading to the attorneys now. I'm staying at the estate should you need to reach me."

"Where to first in your search?"

"To see a certain museum curator on a planet called Jandur."

An idea came to Charles. "Perhaps I can assist your search from here by putting my Shi'ar, SHIELD, and other contacts to work. If the library exists, then others may have clues to its whereabouts."

Warren considered. He was fairly confident Ettwanae wouldn't want others involved in Eshaaru business. "Hold off on that, Charles. I'll discuss it with Ettwanae and if she's open to your idea, I'll comm. Thank you for the offer. I appreciate it."

"Is there anyone with whom I should share the details of your departure or anyone I should not?"

"Full disclosure to the Originals is fine. Everyone else can get the abbreviated version. I trust your judgment and discretion on what to say."

"Very well," Charles acknowledge with a single nod. "While you are still on Earth, will you allow me to send a couple X-men to guard you? With the Etagllot threat, I believe it a wise precaution."

The barest frown crossed the flawlessly handsome features. "I appreciate the offer, Charles, but I'll be fine. Another attempt so soon seems unlikely."

"Which is exactly why they may try again – you won't be expecting it."

"I have a lot of running to do, Charles. It would be…cumbersome to have an entourage."

"But if the Etagllot are indeed still nearby, you are most vulnerable on Earth," Charles countered, but already feeling it was a losing battle. Warren's demeanor took on a look Charles was all too familiar with – the man was digging in his heels and likely not going to budge no matter how logical the argument.

"The mansion is quite secure and most of what I need to do, I'll do either there or at corporate center, which is essentially a fortress. Thanks, but no, Charles." Then a wide smile chased away the frown, radiating all its inherent charm. "I appreciate your concern, my friend. You can't resist being the protective father with any of us, can you? Even after we're all grown up and big boys and girls."

Charles couldn't help but grin in return. When Warren turned on the charisma, few could resist. "Once a parent, always a parent."

Warren stood and moved toward the door, then turned back. "I will contact Ztar shortly and fill him in. Thank you again…for everything. I couldn't be doing this without your support. Until my first comm…"

Charles nodded, his throat too tight to speak. Then Warren was gone.

###

Den-neer was still grappling with the change in orders. Elder Phai was not sharing her reasons, but then again, she didn't have to. He was only to follow orders, not question them.

"Monitor," she had replied succinctly when he asked for new instructions. Disappointment washed through him. He would have enjoyed confronting the former emperor's companion that from all reports had tamed the conquest-driven Turzent. A mental probe of Archangel could have revealed a wealth of desirable information. 'Another day,' he offered himself as consolation.

For now, he listened in on the conversation occurring within the Xavier mansion between Archangel and the Human named Charles Xavier. Devices he'd positioned previously transmitted every word to Bae's waiting communication array. It hadn't been hard to program one of the students to plant the devices for him – the girl's mind was weak and easily manipulated. She carried out her task and promptly forgot their meeting and her assignment. The same technique worked flawlessly on a member of Archangel's house staff, as well as at his company headquarters.

Elder Phai had been pleased with that part of his mission and now it was paying dividends. They had a destination – Jandur. However, that Archangel was being allowed to roam free was puzzling. The Elder had told him only two Earth days ago, they needed the Human for Project One, and he was not to fail. Now he was only to monitor? Something had changed. Something he wasn't privy to. He had put energy and time into the attempts to recapture Archangel. Den-neer didn't like wasting either.

For the first time in a long while, the powerful telepathic telekinetic felt irritation toward his superiors.

###

_A/N: Warren breaks the news to Ztar next chapter. Can anyone guess his reaction? _:-)


	17. Chapter 16

_A/N: A short one for you. _

_And, it's probably time for the legal requirements to be met once again. Just know that I don't own the Uncanny X-men or any Marvel Comic characters. I make no money from this story and never will. However, I do wholly and completely own my original characters, which are fictional and based on no one – any resemblance is coincidental. _

**Chapter 16**

"Archangel! Thank the gods!" The Turzent Emperor's face revealed great relief. "You are safe and well?"

"I am, Ztar." Warren gave the man a cheery smile.

"When I got word you were missing…"

The man needn't say more. Warren knew how concerned he would have been. Despite Ztar and Jharda being a couple, Ztar still loved him fiercely – the recent trip back to Sat'rey proved that. "I'm sorry about causing you and Gtar-Cro so much worry. Thanks, though, for your efforts to locate me. It's reassuring to know the two of you are watching my back."

Ztar leaned close to his PI, looming larger on Warren's screen. "Where are you? What happened? Do you need anything?"

"I'm safely on Earth. I have met some new friends. They prevented an Etagllot operative from kidnapping me from my aerie. And there's nothing I need right now." Warren answered the rapid-fire questions with amusement.

"Charles Xavier told me that much. Sensors detected no ship entering Earth System, Archangel. It wasn't until the Hydeera signature was observed entering Earth atmosphere that we knew anything was happening and by then it was too late. Our worst fears may be coming true. If the Etagllot have cloaking technology, then you are in grave danger. Gtar-Cro is no longer certain he can protect you, the mutants of Earth, or any other planets the Etagllot may harvest for test subjects."

Warren played with the idea of sharing everything with Ztar, but Ettwanae had requested discretion. She feared the consequences if too many people became aware Eshaaru still roamed the galaxy. Having the Shozen and Etagllot searching for them was threat enough.

"Ztar, there are things I cannot reveal right now, but cloaked ships may not be as widespread as you fear."

Ztar looked stunned. "How do you know this? Who are you with?"

"Tell Gtar-Cro not to worry about a fleet of stealth vessels, okay? At least not the kind involved with my disappearance."

"Were there two ships involved? If so, then we were completely blind to one. Whose ship _did_ we detect – your rescuer's or the Etagllot? I have many questions, Archangel, as will Gtar-Cro."

"Understood, but I am not at liberty to share more, Ztar. Please, trust me. Just as I'm going to trust you to not be snooping around trying to find me while I'm gone."

Concern instantly filled the Turzent's face. "_Gone_? Where are you going?"

"On a little quest. There a chance, albeit small, that I can be free of the nannites, and I'm taking it. I have no idea how long I will be away, but I promised Charles I would stay in touch regularly to put everyone's mind at ease."

"You're leaving Earth?" Warren nodded. "To where?"

"Wherever the clues lead."

"But the Etagllot threat! I can't protect you if I don't know where you are." A flicker of perhaps mild panic in Ztar's eyes came through the comlink transmission.

"I'm in good hands, Ztar. Do not worry."

"Impossible. Worrying about you is something I cannot turn off. Archangel, please, let me send an escort ship. Allow me that much reassurance."

Warren shook his head. "Sorry, but I must decline."

"Who are you _with_? At least tell me that."

Ztar displayed all the signs of increasing alarm and that was something Warren wanted to avoid. The Turzent may do things out of attempts to protect Warren that Warren rather he not. The man needed something concrete as reassurance. Should he? Warren trusted Ztar unequivocally. Yet Ettwanae asked him not to reveal her. Warren hadn't promised; he had simply acknowledged her request. "If you know, how will that change anything, Ztar?"

That threw the man and Ztar was obviously at a loss for a few moments. Warren understood, though. Simply having a name to hold onto can be reassuring – it is the nameless things we fear most.

"Give me something, Archangel. Some reason to believe you will be well and safe. That I should attempt to hold my worry at a lower level."

Warren made his decision. "Esserru."

Ztar blinked and his mouth dropped open. "Esserru?" he repeated almost in a whisper.

"Yes, or more accurately, Eshaaru."

Disbelief mixed with shock mixed with wonder on the Turzent face and in the deep brown eyes. "You are with _Esserru_?"

Warren nodded. "With one, Ztar, and two very non-Eshaaru shipmates."

"By the gods! They still walk among us?"

"In a way, Ztar, but that's all I can say. You will need to trust me on everything else. No one can know about this, Ztar. Promise me."

"I- I promise you. I will not share it." Awe had a firm grip on the Turzent.

"Not with Gtar-Cro, Jharda, Sukja – _no_ one, Ztar. Do you understand?" Warren was firm in tone.

"I understand. Esserru?" Ztar shook his head in an apparent attempt to digest the revelation. "You are Esserru? I was right?"

"No, I am not. Just look like them, as I've told you before." Warren held tightly to the conviction. "But I think they may be able to help me get rid of the nannites."

Ztar was quiet for many moments. "I hope with all my being they can do that."

"Me, too. I must go now, Ztar. I'll comm you occasionally to touch base, but Charles will be my primary contact. My PI will be on standby between comms."

"But if we need to reach you…" Concern once again swept across Ztar's handsome features and tugged at something deep within Warren.

"I'll be fine, Ztar. Really. We need to remain unobservable."

At first, the man appeared to be ready to protest further, but ultimately held any objections. Then Ztar's expression changed to one of excitement. "Before you go, I have news to share. Jharda and I are expecting a child!"

Warren's heart jumped with joy, immediately followed by renewed guilt. Joy that all he had worked for, sacrificed, and dreamed of for the Turzent ruler was coming true. Ztar had healed, found his empress, and now he was going to have an heir. Guilt that he had allowed himself to be seduced by the Emperor during his last visit to Sat'rey while Jharda carried Ztar's child. He squelched the shame and let his happiness show.

"Congratulations! I'm incredibly happy for you both."

Ztar nodded. "Thank you." Then Ztar's face took a softer appearance. "If you need anything in your journey, call me. I will be there with whatever is required. I love you, Archangel. I always will."

The last few words and the longing behind them created warmth were Warren just as soon they didn't. 'Jesus!' He shifted uncomfortably. "You're welcome, Ztar. You deserve all the good things coming your way. And thanks for the offer of assistance. I will take you up on that if the need arises."

As he ended the comm, Warren felt he'd made the right decision to tell Ztar about the Eshaaru. It would put the Turzent's mind more at ease given Ztar's belief in the power and righteousness of the legendary race. One less worried friend for Warren to fret about, or that was the hope at least.

###

During a whirlwind 48 hours, Warren had broken the news to Xavier, Ztar, his attorneys, key business heads, Worthington Industries and his charitable Foundation's Board presidents, and estate heads of staff. News spread fast as did the warnings of the ramifications. No one was happy. The Boards were questioning his commitment. Lawyers lamented that yet again Charles Xavier would be acting with power of attorney for Warren – a position they warned he could abuse. One of the WI directors voiced concerned that Warren was hiding something dire, that someday he'd not return from one of his mystifying absences, and about the future of the company. Countless reassurances and promises later, Warren believed himself temporarily extricated from business and personal life on Earth without irreparable collateral damage. Everyone would manage without him for a while…they'd done it before.

He also had to pack, but only the basics, including blue jeans, custom-tailored t-shirts and sweaters, and sneakers. A quick drop-off with Volu earlier of two other essentials – bulk supply of ground coffee and a French press – completed his short list. In the rush, a nagging feeling whispered he was forgetting things, but dismissed it knowing he could get nearly anything within the Empire. With one last look around the expansive master suite, he was ready to depart.

Already having said good-bye to staff, he stepped out onto the large balcony off his bedroom and took to the air, a bag dangling from each shoulder. A hundred feet or so above the mansion, he hovered and gazed down at it, warm feelings washing over him. 'Back soon I hope,' he thought to the home he loved. So many wonderful memories. The not so wonderful he chose to forget.

###

Ztar was worried. Archangel would be out wandering the galaxy with the Etagllot after him. The thwarted kidnapping proved just how much that group still wanted his beloved Human and how dangerous that organization was. The fact that Archangel was with Eshaaru gave Ztar some reassurance, as did the knowledge the race was still alive, yet it raised all sorts of new questions.

The Emperor made his decision quickly. He'd honor Archangel's request to keep the Eshaaru secret, but he would not sit idly by. There was something going on beyond the obvious. He was back to wondering why the Etagllot wanted the nannites so desperately. What were they up to? Instinct told Ztar the big picture was far more complex than simply developing new technologies for the highest bidder.

He leaned back and rummaged through the odd bits of seemingly disconnected information. He still had no answer if one or two ships were involved in the recent kidnapping attempt. The mystery ship at Hydeera may have been the Eshaaru ship, but Archangel hadn't confirmed. There were the scattered reports Gtar-Cro uncovered of a stealth ship or ships elsewhere within the Empire. Then there were his suspicions that the illicit scientists were developing a super race. Apparent manipulations of Par-Sen and Commonwealth political agenda. Rumblings within the Commonwealth that the collective may begin breaking apart, but the reasons were mystifying. An assassin who was potentially both a telepath and a telekinetic. Occasional unexplained deaths that hinted of telekinetic murder – Gtar-Cro's second, Raminjen, being a prime example. Dozens of other odd snippets from reports on their quiet war against the Etagllot and other security briefings.

In spite of the exercise, no great revelations came. The Turzent ruler continued to feel he was missing something – a key piece to the puzzle. "What is it?" he asked aloud of no one. Reaching over, he activated the comm for General Gtar-Cro. A meeting with his head of military intelligence was in order.

###

_A/N: Would love to hear from you right about now. My motivation needs a little boost as the darkness of wintertime is beginning to settle into my bones and energy levels wane. Wondering if the increased frequency of postings is a good thing or if you rather I keep it to a couple uploads a week. Unless I hear otherwise, I'll keep posting as I finish final editing. _

_Preview: The group reunites in preparation to begin their quest. However, a major oversight becomes evident. Volu has only three bedrooms…_


	18. Chapter 17

_A/N: It's the first night of the quest and discomfort is already rising. _

**Chapter 17**

Warren winged toward the ship. He could feel her presence even before his feet hit the ground. A tingle trickled through him starting in the chest then spreading from wing base to tip before shooting to his groin. He bit his lip. A couple days away from the incessant craving had been far more of a relief than he'd realized. Alighting at the edge of a small clearing, a brief wave of distortion preceded the sudden reappearance of Volu as she dropped the cloak. He could see her waiting for him in the bay opening, a wide smile greeting him. Shifting the two large duffel bags to a more comfortable position, Warren headed on foot toward the ship.

"Warren!" she called out with almost childlike delight as he neared. He saw the telltale signs of Ettwanae holding herself back. She, too, was likely feeling the pull. 'Will we be able to live like this?' he wondered. Then his eyes roamed her body with a will of their own, taking in the form and curves of the woman he wanted to make love to for days on end. He sucked in his breath as sex drive threatened to run over his rational brain. He forced his gaze away from her. 'Easy, flyboy. Just breathe.'

Focusing entirely on putting one foot in front of the other, he made it to Volu and stepped inside, intentionally looking everywhere but at the Eshaaru. Flint was standing next to Gatebi, which surprised Warren. They were to pick him up on their way off planet.

"Decided you had enough of Milwaukee already?" he queried immediately, setting down the heavy duffels.

Flint's exaggerated sigh warned the teen was about to share more than Warren likely wanted to hear at the moment.

"Man, you don't know the half of it! Mom was all over me the minute I walked in. Where ya been? Why didn't you call? No one knows where you even live anymore…been outta of my mind with worry…and so it went, on and on. God, you'd think I'd run away and left the freakin' planet or somethin'!" He smirked. "Hey, isn't that what I did? But she doesn't know that. She thinks I'm in with some gang or druggies, as she calls 'em. Then _he_ starts in, as if she's not enough. Told him I wasn't there to see him, just Mom. Told him to fuck off, too. Shoulda seen his face!" Flint did an impression of shock and stern disapproval. "Mom finally told him to run some kinda stupid errand just to get him outta there. Thank god. I was ready to call Vo right then and I'd been home less than an hour!"

The teen paused as if expecting something. Warren guessed it was Volu's little reminder, but she must have decided to let the offense pass unpunished. Warren shifted from one foot to the other. The teen didn't look to be ready to end his litany of complaints just yet.

"War, I'm telling ya, if you had to put up with my step dad, you'd be looking to leave the planet, too. Uptight bastard if ya ever saw one!"

Warren chuckled, thinking 'You didn't live with Scott Summers.' The quiet laugh seemed to spur Flint on.

"_Nothin'_ I do is good enough. Now I'm really fuckin' up, worrying Mom and doing god knows what, he said. Like he has a clue. Jesus, War – I'm doing something important here – helpin' Twae and all. And I can't even tell 'em!" The kid shook his head. "They wouldn't understand anyway. Get all bent 'bout aliens and stuff. Mutants are bad enough. Shit, if they only knew! Fuck, it's all screwy and…and – I'm just glad to be back!"

Warren hesitated. Was the kid done? Had he expelled it all or just pausing to breathe.

"We're happy you are back, Flint, as we told you when you commed and explained your discomfort. We believed you the first time." Gatebi's voice was a mix of reassurance and reprove.

Warren wondered how many times Flint had related the story to his captive audience. "Did you leave your mother on good terms, though?" Warren asked. It would not be wise if the teen and his parent parted badly and he then stewed and dwelled on it all the while they were away.

Flint nodded. "Yeah, I guess. She wasn't happy with my answers to where I was goin', but we're good."

"Then we should be ready to leave. Greetings, Volu!" He called out. "If you'd be so kind as to begin our trip to Jandur."

"Welcome back, Warren. I will depart immediately. And so our journey begins," the Eshaar'ne proclaimed.

"Let's hope we all find what we seek," he wished as he looked at the three pairs of expectant eyes focused on him. Those eyes were filled with excitement, hope, and expectations that he'd lead them to their goal. 'Oh, god, what have I gotten myself into?' He looked down at his bags. 'First things first.' He grabbed the duffel handles. "Where do I put this stuff?"

As soon as he said it, he realized a glaring oversight. Volu had just three bedchambers. Someone needed to bunk in with someone else. The mere thought of sharing a room with Flint made him groan. Flint suddenly didn't look so pleased either, while Gatebi and Ettwanae exchanged sideways looks that Warren knew spoke volumes as only women could with a glance. There was a long, awkward silence.

"I can sleep in the gathering room," he offered none too enthusiastically. Having one's bedroom in the livingroom wasn't a long-term solution, but it'd work until they figured something else out.

Then Volu spoke. "If I may make a suggestion. The small storeroom can be converted. It does not offer hygiene facilities, but perhaps Flint would share his."

The teen muttered something under his breath and pointedly did not say that'd be okay.

"Warren and I can share my bathroom. I don't mind," Ettwanae offered. In fact, to Warren's estimation, Ettwanae appeared to welcome the idea. He, on the other hand, had a shit load of reservations.

"Let's get that storeroom converted. I'll use Flint's bathroom, assuming that's okay." Warren intentionally made it a statement and not a question. He may have just ticked off Flint, but the kid would just have to suck it up. Warren, though, had something in his bags that might smooth over the inconvenience.

"Sure." Flint's response was the epitome of neutrality. Warren was impressed.

The next hour they spent emptying the upper deck storeroom, hauling those items to the lower level cargo area, creating a makeshift bed out of spare items, and turning cargo crates into a dresser, storage, and nightstand. When they were done, Warren looked over his new quarters. It was tight for one with a 16-foot wingspan, but it would do. The bed wouldn't offer much in the way of sumptuous comfort. After having spent two years on Sat'rey with what he swore was the softest, most comfortable mattress in the universe, Warren had spent a tidy sum trying to recreate that luxury on Earth. He had gotten close. Having a mattress where he could actually lie on his back without discomfort was an indulgence he never wanted to give up. Now, though, sleeping on his back wouldn't be happening.

As Warren unpacked, he called out for Flint who'd wandered down to the galley with the others to prepare the evening meal. It was a relief when Ettwanae left the room. He was sweating from the effort to control his libido while she was so close.

"Yo," Flint acknowledged popping his head inside the doorway.

"Got something for you," he offered pointing to two pairs of blue jeans lying on the almost-bed. He had to guess at Flint's size, but figured he'd gotten it close. While at the mansion, he asked his butler to buy a couple pairs of whichever brand were the hottest in young adult fashion. Flint was at the bed in a flash and from his expression, Warren guessed the butler made the right purchase.

"_Rogues?_" the teen exclaimed rotating the jeans around to ravage them with his eyes. "You got me Rogues? These cost a fortune!" Flint held them up to his body to gauge the fit. "Two pairs? Fuck, War, how'd ya know? These are badass! Man, if my friends could see me. I can't believe it. Shit! _Rogues_!"

Warren smiled at Flint's joy. "So I take it you like them?"

"God, thanks, man! I mean it – really. Thanks! Gotta show 'em to the girls." Flint spun around and darted out the door, then stopped short. "War, it really _is_ okay if we share my bathroom," came the olive branch and then he was gone.

'Yep, that was a good idea,' Warren congratulated himself. He had two other gifts, but those would keep.

"Warren?" Volu voice floated through the room.

"Yes?"

"I would feel more secure if you deactivated your PI while it is not in use."

"It's in standby."

"I have already confirmed that, but there remains a slight chance it could be tracked. Some Turzent technology has become quite sophisticated. You are Royal Court and it is conceivable that your PI is used by government forces to locate you in emergencies."

"What about your own highly advanced technology? Can't you detect whether that's the case? Or block any signal if you're right?"

"Typically, yes on both points. I prefer to be overly cautious where the Turzent government is concerned."

Warren didn't feel like arguing the point. "If I want to comm someone, are you going to stop me?"

Silence for several moments. "No, but I will attempt to persuade you otherwise for our safety."

Warren could accept that. "Fair enough." If the ship had answered differently, he may have reconsidered his decision. He grabbed up the PI and shut it down completely. The downside result being it would store no messages or provide any notification someone was attempting to reach him. Then he set it atop the small cargo tub he was using as a dresser and continued arranging his makeshift quarters.

###

He had monitored as ordered, listening to Archangel's conversations as he arranged to be away from his homeworld for a lengthy period. As the Eshaar'ne departed the planet, he and Bae eavesdropped on Earth's defense systems as they detected an anomalous signal moving through their atmosphere toward space, uncertain if it was a natural phenomenon or something more sinister. For the second time in less than two Earth rotational periods, their primitive technology was unable to discern the nature of the irregularity. Eshaar'ne cloaking may be not perfect inside gravity wells, but it was more than sufficient to fool the scanning technology of the backward planet.

As he watched the ship phase to FTL, he felt no urgency to follow. He knew their next destination – Jandur; back to where he and the Etagllot had laid their trap once before for the female. That had been a perfectly executed operation and he still felt pride in the capture. And so when he was told the Etagllot lost her on Hydeera during an Imperial raid, he was angry. Sloppy. How could you let something that valuable slip through your fingers! But in the end, the Elders decided to allow the Eshaaru to remain free.

He considered his new orders concerning Archangel – watch, observe, and apply nudges along the way when necessary. First nudge – Phai wanted the pair maneuvered to a certain old 'friend' of his. First, though, came Jandur. Then they'd see if any subtle intervention was necessary.

###

Ettwanae was disappointed – couldn't help herself even though she knew it would was illogical. Yet part of her hoped to share her bedroom with her soulbound. It was only natural, yet impossible. She understood that. It hurt. She so wanted him. She dreamed of him. Desired him. Longed with an intense ache for him.

Helping Warren get his room set up was difficult, but she refused to be denied that small pleasure. She fought down urges the whole time. Being separated and then coming back together seemed to have retriggered the desire for first mating, although greatly diminished in intensity. Warren had been fighting it as well. So many little things gave it away – subtle twitches and shivers of the wings, the stiffness of his body, pointed avoidance of her touch and gaze, the pained look in his eyes. She riled all over again at the injustice. It was a relief when Gatebi said they should start the meal. Putting some distance between them dulled the throbbing.

As the trio pulled food from storage, Gatebi gave Ettwanae inquisitive looks. After Flint answered Warren's summons, she held the question no longer. "Ettwanae, are you going to be able to endure Warren's presence?"

Ettwanae smiled at her best friend. "That obvious?" Gatebi gestured affirmative. "It will be uncomfortable, but I hope so."

Gatebi set the neibru juice down on the counter and turned to Ettwanae. "He was just as uncomfortable. The situation could become very wearing on both of you."

Ettwanae threw up her hands and the emotions burst forth. "It's so _unfair_! A cruel joke. We're soulbounds that can't bind." She started to pace around the table, Gatebi eyes following. "Why is this _happening_?"

Just then Flint bounded into the room bearing a huge smile and holding up some pants. "Guys, ya won't _believe_ what-" he stopped in his tracks verbally and physically as two pairs of eyes locked to his with less than welcome.

"Not now," Gatebi whispered.

Flint got the message and backed out. "I…umm…catch ya later." A quiet but exasperated "women!" could be heard from the corridor as Flint moved on. Then, "Hey, Vo, guess what!"

Gatebi turned back to Ettwanae. "Did he tell you who he's bonded to?" she asked in gentle tones.

Ettwanae hesitated. She wasn't certain Warren would want that revealed, but yet Ettwanae shared nearly everything with Gatebi. She picked up her pacing where she left off at Flint's interruption.

"It's someone important." Ettwanae couldn't quite bring herself to reveal who that was.

Gatebi continued meal preparations, placing their entrée in the warming compartment. "If he's bonded, then there's another Eshaaru out there. At least that's something. Maybe-"

"Not an Eshaaru," Ettwanae interrupted. Gatebi's face revealed her confusion. "He is falsely bonded to a non-Eshaaru.

"What? How? _Who?_" Gatebi shook her head. Then Gatebi's eyes snapped to hers in stunned disbelief, suggesting the Alcab was clever enough to have put the pieces together.

"It shouldn't be possible, but it is. Volu has a theory, but whatever the reason, we can't bond because of it." Speaking the harsh reality nearly brought her to tears. She suddenly needed to sit and plunked down heavily on a chair, pulling her wings forward in a half-cocoon. "It's wrong and shouldn't have happened! He didn't mean for it to happen. He didn't even know what bonding was."

"And the bond can't be broken?"

Ettwanae laughed with bitterness as Gatebi starting setting the table. "Oh, it can – if we kill the one he's bonded to."

Gatebi stopped in mid-motion. "That's the only way?"

Ettwanae nodded. "Unless he dies naturally or Etxan'Ir offers another way, yes."

"I'm sorry, Ettwanae. I know how much you wanted him to be the one."

"We're not giving up. It's another reason to find Etxan'Ir." Ettwanae rose, deciding that getting the meal ready would be a good distraction. "Enough of painful things. Warren's coming with us. I want to be happy about what we have, not sad about what we don't."

Gatebi gave her a supportive look. "You are strong, my friend."

"I have to be." Ettwanae paused before the cold storage compartment. "He still believes himself Human." She felt that needed to be understood.

"Despite all the evidence?"

She nodded, touching the top of the pod to open it. Then they focused on getting the food ready.

###

Warren couldn't sleep, couldn't get comfortable, and couldn't take his mind off the woman who lay in her bed mere paces down the corridor.

"Arrgh!" he fumed, tossing the covers aside and sitting up. He rubbed his temples, rolled his shoulders, and stretched his wings as far as he could in the small, pitch-black room. Even the few hours he'd spent attempting to get to sleep on the hard, makeshift bed left him sore and irritable. 'Should of figured out a way to bring my mattress!' he reprimanded himself. The body aches lasted only seconds as his healing factor quickly dissolved them. Emotional aches were another matter.

Sighing deeply, he rose and eased through the darkness until Volu sensed his movement and barely there illumination bathed the room. It was more than adequate for his mutation-enhanced night vision. Grabbing the water canteen he had the foresight to fill before retiring, he drank deeply. 'Probably not the smartest idea,' he realized. The only toilet politely available to him was in Flint's room and he'd hate to disturb the teenager in the middle of the night.

Leaving his quarters, Warren stepped into the corridor and immediately soft lighting dissipated the darkness. To his right was Flint's room. Further down the hall and next to the teen's chambers was the family room and just beyond that, the lift for the lower deck. The bridge was at the nose of the ship and at the opposite end of the corridor from Warren's makeshift room. On the left side of the corridor was the galley, Gatebi's room, and then Ettwanae's chambers adjacent to the bridge.

He decided to head to the bridge and look it over. The floor felt gently warm to his bare feet – and soft yet unyielding. Difficult to describe. Pausing in front of Ettwanae's closed door, an inner voice told him to enter, to take her into his arms, to be with her. With a shiver, he moved on.

Volu brought the bridge lights up as he entered. "You are restless," the living ship pointed out the obvious.

"I can see you'll be difficult to pull one over on," he jested in sarcasm. He walked up to the only chair on the bridge – a narrow-backed throne designed for a captain with wings.

"You can sit if you wish."

He did as invited and found that his body and the chair formed to one another perfectly. The upper portion of the chair back was just wide enough to provide support, but not so wide as to interfere with his wings. The lower half widened and curved up gently to hug his ribcage, providing greater side-to-side stability. With a seat that was soft yet firm – a recurring theme on the ship, he noted – one would likely be comfortable sitting for hours.

In front of him was a small dashboard of controls, all very organic in appearance, just like the rest of the ship. The scanner display showed points of light coming and going.

"Stars?" he asked.

"Stars, planets, and other objects."

"You use bio-luminescence to create the display?"

"Yes."

"How fast are we traveling?"

"LS3.225 on the Imperial FTL scale."

"The scale is based on multiples of 1000 times the speed of light, so LS3.225 is 3225 times light speed." He'd learned about the FTL measure years ago on the Ztar's flagship, the Mi-Lartui.

"Yes."

"I'm not entirely certain how FTL is achieved by Imperial races, but I'm guessing you go about it differently."

"Indeed. FLT engines create a distortion in space, allowing vessels to travel at speeds far exceeding that of light without ill effect. That takes a lot of energy and powerful engines. On the other hand, I mimic FTL engines via a partial phase into a dimension that is, in simple concept, smaller. Travel within the spatial differential creates the same result – faster than light travel in this dimension."

Warren rolled over the concept. Volu had mentioned the method before, but he hadn't given it much thought. Phasing into another dimension that was smaller – extremely clever. "How did someone discover that smaller dimension?"

"I do not know. It is very ancient knowledge possessed by the U'larr."

"And you said earlier that when you phase, you can't be detected."

"That is correct. When I _fully_ phase, the technology of the known races cannot sense me. Someday, that may change, but for now we are safe from their scanners unless close to a concentrated gravitational field, which partially disrupts phasing."

"Such as a planet."

"Correct."

"What about stars?"

"If I come within close range, it would disrupt my phase."

"But you can detect other ships."

"That is correct. During phase, I straddle two dimensions. My scanning abilities are able to monitor both simultaneously."

Warren nodded in understanding. "Otherwise, you might splatter yourself all over a planet in one or the other dimension?"

"Because I am phased, the splatter would be more of molecular dispersion, but the idea is the same."

"What is your maximum speed on the Imperial scale?"

"I am limited to my natural propulsion speed, but while phased, that translates to roughly LS4.2.

"Over four thousand times the speed of light? That's almost unimaginable. How fast are the fastest traditional ships?"

"Of that I am uncertain. The fastest I have encountered was traveling LS3.5, but that may not have been its best speed."

"Whose ship was that, do you know?"

"It was a Turzent military vessel. The maximum velocity of military craft is usually a closely held secret."

Warren was impressed. He'd spent six years with Ztar and hadn't a clue his ships were that fast. "How fast are you in normal space?"

"My standard propulsion can bring us to 19 percent of light speed, slower than standard ships, unfortunately, but useful for close-in maneuvering and in-system hops."

"So you could be faster than anything else out there in FTL mode, but slower than many at normal drive."

"I agree with that assessment."

"And you explained earlier, you manipulate gravity for sublight speed."

"Correct. I either repulse or attract using naturally occurring gravitation fields, such those around stars and planets."

Warren got up and roamed the bridge, looking and touching along the way. There was little in the way of displays, controls, or the like. "Volu, what if you're unable to travel or aim weapons? What happens if you become incapacitated? How do we control those functions for you?"

Volu did not answer immediately, which instantly worried Warren. As a result, what he heard next came as little surprise.

"If I should be so badly damaged as for that to be the situation, then you would all be in grave peril. There is no way for you to take control of my systems."

"I see." It drove home what a desperate situation they escaped from when the other Eshaar'ne attacked. They were indeed lucky to be alive. "I have another question – different subject. You use the term 'my other.' What do you mean by that?"

"Ettwanae is my Other. We are joined. She and I complete each other. It is a traditional reference used by Eshaar'ne when referring to their joined Eshaaru. If Ettwanae should have a mate, he or she also become my Other, though we are not directly joined. One Eshaar'ne can have two Others, but an Eshaaru has only a single Other."

"How do you become joined?"

Again the hesitation. "Warren, you should try to rest. It has been a long day."

"So you're telling me enough questions for one night?"

"You have a healthy curiosity, and yes – enough for one night."

"You're not the first to tell me I ask a lot of questions, and likely not the last," Warren laughed, but sleep was pulling at him as he thought about it.

Back in his room, he crawled into bed for another attempt at slumber. Just before he nodded off, it hit him.

'Fuck!"

"Warren, what is wrong?" came the tense inquiry.

"Preening oil. I forgot it. Damn it all!" He was wide awake again with the irritation and sat up. He could have sworn he heard the ship laugh.

"Warren, in case you failed to notice, you are not the only winged being on board. I produce oil for conditioning wings, which is mixed into the shower soap. Eshaar'ne take care of their inhabitants."

"Oh," he said feeling somewhat foolish. Of course there'd be something for Ettwanae. He laid back down and tried to relax, allowing pleasant memories of Ztar helping him preen to carry him off.

###

_A/N: Jandur is how many days away? There's time to get to know each other more. Next time, Warren talks with Ettwanae and then with Flint. Just what's the story with Flint and the Etagllot anyway? _


	19. Chapter 18

_A/N: A special thank you to xrystofer for all your reviews! You keep me on task. Would love to hear from anyone else reading, as well. Reader comments and encouragement really make a difference in my level of motivation. _

_The journey to Jandur is well underway. Warren has quizzed Volu, now it's Ettwanae and Flint's turn. First, though, let's take a peek of what's going on within the enemy camp._

**Chapter 18**

The Director considered his options. An aspect of Project One was threatening to stall. Hercjell's team had exceeded what was conventionally believed possible with bionite technology and then hit a major roadblock. The Etagllot Director of Biotechnology frowned as he sat in his elegantly appointed office. Transformative fluidity remained frustratingly just beyond their grasp. What had been accomplished resulted in unacceptable side affects when the bionites attempted to reverse the changes they had successfully performed in the host body. For reasons unknown, layered transformations degraded genetic integrity resulting in death of the test subject, a sometimes slow and agonizing expiration. One viable transformation seemed to be limit of what Hercjell's team was able to achieve. That was far from the goal.

They needed a breakthrough…or an example of someone else's success. And so he had filed the requisition for the one known key that could solve bust through the barrier. Typically, such requests were quickly fulfilled. The Prime Director had personally assured him that it would be a relatively simple acquisition, yet her two recent comms spoke only of vague delays and complications. Not that he was entitled to any form of explanation, but it was perplexing.

His thoughts briefly turned to more encouraging progress. The second half of Head Researcher al'Verta Hercjell's project was proceeding nicely. Her team had made great strides in energy transference augmentation. Subjects infused with those bionites could channel energy far in excess of what their bodies were capable of naturally and surviving. The Prime Director was pleased with his reports in that arena. Once perfected, they'd merge those bionites with the transformative variety, _if _they succeeded in creating bio morphing technology, that is.

Rising to stretch his legs, the Director contemplated the options. His branch had resources beyond the traditional hierarchy of the organization that his predecessor had carefully cultivated and he had maintained during his tenure. If the internal personnel assigned the task by the Prime Director could not produce the vital resource, then perhaps he should utilize those outside connections. It was within the authority of his position to do so. He need not clear the action with anyone, including the Prime Director. She had inserted herself into the most recent attempt to acquire the Human for unknown reasons. Her motivations didn't matter; their goal was the same – acquisition of the transformative biotechnology. If the Prime Director could not obtain it, he had every right – and duty – to do so through other means. He was responsible for ensuring the directives given his department by the Council were carried out by any means necessary.

Decision made. He would not ask permission. He would not inform. He would simply do what was necessary. "Comlink activate," he spoke into the air. Then he sent a cryptic summons that in the end may accomplish what the Prime Director was failing to do. Acquire Archangel.

###

It was the morning of day two of the trip to Jandur when Warren poked his head into the gathering room. "Ettwanae, do you have a few minutes?" The request was daring. Any amount of time spent in close proximity of the woman could cause extreme discomfort, but curiosity was prodding. Besides, he needed to learn about his shipmates, and he planned talks with Flint and Gatebi, as well.

"Of course, Warren!"

Then he realized what was happening on the lounger. Gatebi was helping Ettwanae preen where she couldn't reach. "I can come back – you're busy."

The golden locks swayed as her head shook in objection. "No, please. We're almost done, right Gatebi?"

A quick hand gesture from the Alcab affirmed the status of their task.

"If you're willing, then, I'd like to learn more about you and your people," he explained moving further in the room, testing the Aru/Ura waters.

Gatebi placed a hand on Ettwanae's shoulder. "Do you want me to stay or go?" The Eshaaru twisted around and the two women exchanged words without speaking. "If you need me…" Ettwanae gave her an appreciative nod and the Alcab left, shooting Warren an expression that said "be careful."

Warren settled in the chair farthest from Ettwanae. 'Best to keep some distance.'

"What do you want to know?" Her face and voice were eager.

"What I've gotten so far has been in bits and pieces. I'd like to hear the Eshaaru story from start – the origins of your species and the like." Warren had to admit despite his firm belief in his Earth origins, the uncanny resemblance Ettwanae and he shared was intriguing. Perhaps Eshaaru had Human DNA somewhere in their past. Then again, there were many so-called humanoid species in the galaxy. Theories varied as to why that was the case, but he'd never heard a definitive answer to that mystery.

Both happiness and sadness flickered across her face. "It's an amazing story, Warren, but sad as well." The blue eyes fell to where her hands clasped each other on her lap.

"If it's too painful…"

She looked up quickly. "No. I'd love to share it. I don't get the chance very often – Gatebi and Flint…they are the only ones."

Warren settled back into the cozy chair and waited.

"What I know is from knowledge handed down generation to generation – Eshaar'ne to Eshaar'ne; Eshaaru to Eshaaru. We trust that the story has remained unchanged, but cannot be certain. And a large part of our history is lost to me and Volu." Melancholy permeated the air.

"I understand."

He watched as Ettwanae absentmindedly pulled a wing forward and took up preening the flight feathers. Perhaps she found the mindless task comforting as he often did. "For tens of thousands of years, the ancient U'larr ruled the galaxy. They were powerful, wise beings and followers of Ozshi'wanae, the goddess of light and life. They watched as new life spread throughout the galaxy and Ozshi'wanae breathed lifewill into her favored creations. But too many species rose up only to die out and what they had known disappeared with them. It saddened the U'larr greatly. Many millennia ago, they determined that the knowledge of Ozshi'wanae's favored needed to be preserved and the U'larr created the Etxan'Ir – the great library. All the knowledge of their own great civilization was stored within the library and the wisdom of other ancient races."

She smiled warmly before continuing, sparing Warren a glance. "But from the younger species, the U'larr would not gather the knowledge themselves. They chose to use avatars whose sole purpose was to obtain knowledge from the countless rising races and bring it to Etxan'Ir. And so the Eshaaru were created from the science of the U'larr. They infused the first Eshaaru male and female with lifeforce, and Ozshi'wanae breathed lifewill into the pair and bound their souls."

Her words were nearly lost to him as he watched in fascination as she preened the flight feathers, her fingers deftly mending splits. To his surprise, Aru remained only a subtle nag, but something else stirred and beckoned him to her. Mutual grooming, a primeval act of bonding, awakened feral natures.

She'd stopped speaking and studied him. "Gatebi hadn't finished in back. Would you help me?" she asked gently and hesitantly. It was risky and Aru could erupt with fury.

"I don't think that is a good idea."

"We can stop immediately if Aru rises," she countered. "You know how to do this so well – you'd be done quickly."

Warren wanted to say yes. 'Admit it, Worthington, you'd like to preen another winged person; to experience it from the other side. What's the worst that can happen – mating drive rears its head and you have to leave the room?'

"Help me, please, Warren?" The soft request floated to him and wrapped around his own desire to do as asked. Without a word, he rose and sat next to her. She turned her back to him, drawing her legs up to sit cross-legged. He waited several seconds, alert to any changes in Aru intensity. 'So far, so good.'

"You were saying about Ozshi'wanae breathing lifewill into the first soulbounds," he prompted.

"Yes. Let's see…the U'larr knew the Eshaaru needed a spacecraft and helper and created the Eshaar'ne – living ships. They would be more than vessels; the Eshaar'ne would join to their Eshaaru – their Other's – and become symbiotic companions and guardians. Once joined, Eshaaru and Eshaar'ne could communicate telepathically."

As he touched the wing and lifted a feather, she drew in a small breath and trembled ever so slightly. The response stirred a deep wanting within him, but he held it down. Pushing ahead, he quickly repaired the split.

"How do you become joined?"

Ettwanae cast him a quick over-the-shoulder glance. "Volu could probably give you a better answer, but somehow the amulet creates a neurological connection between the pair. That's what makes mind-to-mind communication possible. But it goes deeper than that. After Volu and I were joined, it felt…" she paused and shook her head. "It's hard to describe, Warren. The feeling was like she was part of me and I'd always known her, yet I knew nothing about her."

"So when you used the amulet to call her, the joining happened?"

"No. It wasn't until I placed the amulet in its spot on the bridge. At first, I was frightened and didn't want to join." She chuckled making Warren's stomach flutter. He refocused on his task. "Seems silly now, but I was scared…everything happened so fast – the Shozen, Bhenra dying… I wasn't myself. But she eventually talked me into doing what was necessary and then we were joined. Once done, it seemed just so right and natural." Another quick laugh. "It _is_! It's how we were created to be."

Warren wanted to ask about the details of how the joining felt, but he'd not press the issue. Perhaps it was none of his business. Instead, he had another question. "Is there a meaning behind your species names?"

"There is!" She seemed happily surprised at the inquiry. "Esha means caretaker and you know what Aru is. So the name means Caretaker of Lifeforce. And Eshaar'ne means Born of Eshaaru – the 'ne part meaning born of. Oh, and Ozshi'wanae translates to Goddess of Light."

Warren thought about the name Eshaaru for a moment. "Caretaker of Lifeforce? Why that? It doesn't seem to fit into your role."

Ettwanae's wings twitched once. "I asked Volu that same question once, but she has no answer. It could have something to do with our ability to channel Aru from The Source."

Warren nodded. "Sounds like a good explanation. And so the Eshaaru and the Eshaar'ne went out into the galaxy to gather knowledge and bring it back to Etxan'Ir for the U'larr."

"Yes, and they were commanded to breed and multiply. And to ensure purity of the species, Eshaaru can only mate with another Eshaaru and only soulbounds can create a child."

"Was there only one original pair?"

She shivered as Warren lifted another feather. He had to suppress a sudden urge to kiss the back of her neck. "We're not certain. If there was only one, then siblings would had to have been soulbounds to have offspring. That is not unheard of if no other options are available according to Volu's medical knowledge."

"I can see where species continuation could be a powerful force." He slid his palm down the length of her wing to resettle several plumes. Sensually smooth, soft yet with a stiffness like crisp silk fabric – that was the closest description he could come up with. Then he refocused on the task at hand as Aru began to stir. A couple more feathers and he'd be done.

Ettwanae cleared her throat in likely Aru-caused discomfort. "However it happened, our kind multiplied and performed our purpose and brought knowledge from all corners of the galaxy. Then something terrible happened, or that's what is believed to be the case…a catastrophic event that could be the reason the U'larr to disappear and my people scattered. We think that without the U'larr to unify the galaxy, that it fell into a dark time where ancient wisdom and knowledge were lost."

Warren immediately drew a correlation to Europe's Dark Ages. "But Etxan'Ir survived."

"It did and my parents followed the ancient purpose."

"Speaking of your parents, have you given more thought to me viewing your memory node? If there are any clues…" He let Ettwanae complete the thought.

Her hands halted their work and she was perfectly still for many seconds. "I'm not ready for that, Warren. The memories are private and meant for me…and Volu and I have reviewed the node several times for clues to Etxan'Ir or anything that could lead us there." She twisted around. "I'm sorry – it's just-"

Warren placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Ettwanae. I understand. You needn't explain further."

Her whispered thank you was barely audible. A change in subject was needed. "Do you have any unusual abilities? Flint mentioned you're stronger than you look…"

She threw a smirk his way. "I'm no weakling, as he'd say! But I'm not extraordinarily strong either. Flint has told me about the mutants on your planet. If you're asking about abilities like those, I have none."

"Except channeling The Source," he pointed out.

"Hmmm, guess you're right. So I have one so-called unusual ability, but other than that, no."

Then Warren remembered something he'd wanted to ask. "In one memory you showed me, you had wings as an infant. Are Eshaaru born with wings or do they emerge after?" He returned to preening and her body jerked slightly.

"I'm not sure," she admitted with surprise. "I never thought about that." She fell silent and Warren assumed the Eshaaru was checking with the only information source available. Then Ettwanae apparently decided the preening was complete and she scooted around to face Warren. "Volu says some Eshaaru are born with wings and others get them later."

Warren had a feeling this wasn't going to end up where he had hoped. "How much later?"

"A few weeks. Usually the males. Females are almost always born with them fully emerged."

'Finally something in the I'm-Not-Eshaaru column!' The inner smile transferred to his face without permission and her eyebrows rose in puzzlement. For some reason Warren couldn't fathom, Aru found her expression enticing and urges strengthened.

"Mine didn't come in until I was sixteen years old."

Surprise filled her eyes. "But that's much too late!"

"Too late for an Eshaaru." He didn't say more – no need. Ettwanae's face went from surprise to disheartened and it suddenly didn't feel quite so good about scoring a point for his case. Aru took advantage and nudged desire harder.

Then Ettwanae's demeanor changed in an instant and she sat straight as a rod and locked eyes with him, cockiness radiating from her. "Even if your physical development was delayed, I still like you – and so does my Aru!"

She giggled, he laughed. "A late bloomer is what you're saying I was."

"Late bloomer? As in flowering past the expected time?" He nodded and she chuckled again. "It fits." She reached out and brushed his right wing. "Warren's wings bloomed late – but beautifully."

That was all it took and the urge to pull Ettwanae into his arms escalated sharply. The rapid dilation of her pupils signaled she was experiencing the same arousal. "I think we'd best leave things there," he said rising, wasting no time getting to the door. He turned and caught her eyes. "I wish things could be different," he admitted.

"Me, too." A twinkle danced in the crystalline-blue orbs. "Go now before I let Aru have its way with me and I tackle you where you stand!"

Chuckling, he headed down the hall to his quarters. 'She's sweet, this young alien woman,' he mused. 'If not for the damnable Ura rejection, he was certain they would be thoroughly enjoying each other. 'If I didn't have bad luck, I'd have no luck at all, as the old saying goes.'

He grabbed up his PI, opened the book he'd started reading, and let himself be drawn once again into the make-believe worlds with hopes of stifling a nagging Aru.

###

Ztar and Jharda laid in bed at their palace on Sat'rey. She was due to leave that morning and he was fretting.

"But traveling now is something to be curtailed, is it not?" he questioned, rubbing his hand across her belly. Ztar still found it amazing that they were expecting a child. It was a dream come true. An heir. Someone to carry on his line after his death. And if the gods were willing, the child would be the first of several.

Jharda laughed. "My dear Ztar," she began, drawing her fingers through his crimson-black hair as she held the gaze of the deep brown eyes, "it's not as if the baby is due soon. When birth is eminent, I will stay here. Otherwise, there is little risk in continuing my duties." Then she gave his locks a brisk ruffle before dropping her hand to his resting on her abdomen.

"You have capable staff, Jharda. Someone else can perform this diplomatic errand. I feel better with you here. The future emperor's welfare must be our _first_ duty." His beloved's broad smile warmed him. The gods had blessed him with a twofold miracle – Jharda and their unborn child.

Another gentle laugh filled their chambers. "The future _empress_ will be just fine. Best she understands the call of imperial duty early, my Emperor." Jharda gently removed the man's hand from her stomach and sat up. "And now the empress-to-be and her mother must get ready for the day."

Ztar groaned, but allowed Jharda to exit the bed. How he wished they could have lounged for hours, yet duty awaited him as well. The Empire never rested and he had much on his imperial docket. While the transition to a more self-governing empire relieved him of many tasks, he was still very much its monarch. That shift enabled him to focus on the long-term vision and far less on the daily matters of governing.

Watching with admiration as her form move into the bathroom, he reminded himself that Jharda needed to ascend from merely Royal Court and government official to Empress. Marriage would do that. And to fully ensure their first child had full claim to the throne, as he must be born within an Imperial marriage to be in an unchallengeable position. Ztar was not naïve in believing that later children born within their marriage would not attempt to claim the throne if the first was not born under matrimonial protection. No, Ztar needed to wed Jharda before the birth.

Time to talk with Sukja.

###

After breakfast the following day, Flint was at the top of Warren's to-do list. He needed to assess the strengths and weaknesses of his traveling companions. During the heat of battle was not the time to first learn of your teammates' abilities. Within the small ship, it didn't take long to find Flint. Stretched out on the lounger, the teenager held up a PI, punching the hand-sized device like crazy.

"Computer game?" Warren inquired upon entering the room. He glanced around – they were alone. 'Good.'

"Hold on…" Flint said dismissively and continued to work the PI at a speed where smoke should have been rising.

Warren waited patiently, sipping his coffee. Warren loved the complexity of the 100 percent, custom roasted Kona elixir. A slightly sweet aroma filled his nose, while the taste held hints of molasses, nuts, aromatic wood, maybe even a touch of milk chocolate. Coffee he understood. What he'd couldn't understand was the fascination with computer games to the point of addiction. But then again, he rarely had time for such pastimes so had never really given them a chance. When he did manage to carve out some leisure time, he preferred to read or take wing. That thought made his wings shiver. It'd only been a couple days and already he was itching to get into the air. The ship was _very_ small, which disagreed with Warren's basic nature.

Flint continued to work his fingers with lightening speed, seeming to have no awareness of anything beyond the world held in his hands. Warren thought about the days, weeks, and likely months of travel ahead of them. Facing many long, uneventful days, he decided he might need to explore gaming simply to help pass the time.

After a couple more minutes, Flint sat up. "Whew! Nearly got my ass annihilated. That's one mean program! You should try it sometime, War. We can load it to your PI."

"I might, but playing on such a small screen…"

Flint leaned forward, waving the PI. "This? Oh, I just play on this 'cause it's handy. You can project the game and it's more like somethin' outta of the Enterprise holodeck. Totally rad!" Then a frown crossed his face. "Volu's not so keen on me doin' that though. But I wasn't _all_ my fault that stuff got busted. If Gatebi stowed it like she should of, it wouldn't of gotten knocked over."

Warren didn't even want to go there. "Safer to play on the PI then."

The kid nodded. "You should be good at it considerin' you're an X-man and all."

Warren enjoyed another mouthful of the hot and expensive beverage before replying. "I may just do that at some point."

Flint leaned back into the lounger and got comfortable. "Man, you need to tell us stories sometime. I'm dyin' to hear how you kicked the bad guys' butts!" His eyes were wide.

Warren could have told Flint that whatever romanticized imaginings he was visualizing were just that. He could have said how battle was life and death, unlike the teen's games. How friends can die before your eyes and how the sounds and stench of death haunt you. That sometimes you puke your guts out when things get really gory and the color of the water in the shower after such a fight can be rusty red and bits of things you'd rather not name swirl down the drain. But he wouldn't.

"Maybe sometime," he said instead. "Speaking of battles, I have a question for you."

That lit up Flint's eyes even more. "Hey, man, ask away."

"The Etagllot took you because you're a mutant, right?" The boy nodded. "What's your ability?"

Pride swelled the kid's chest. "I'm a firestarter."

Light dawned. "Flint's your codename!"

"That's me. Government name, Lanic Reilly."

"How does it work?"

Flint leaned abruptly toward Warren. "Pretty cool, actually. First, I have to touch my target or touch something touching it."

"You need contiguous contact from you to your target?" Flint looked confused. "Meaning there can be no gaps between you and what you want to set on fire," Warren defined.

"Yeah, no gaps. Like I can't set an airplane on fire that's in the sky."

"So air isn't a conductor. What about water?"

"Yep, water works. So far, everything but air."

'Intriguing…a contact firestarter. Could be extremely deadly.' Warren hoped the youth had his ability very much under control, especially while dreaming.

"Do you need to see the target?"

"Not exactly. I need to know it's there, but don't need to actually see it."

"Explain." Warren savored another sip, inhaling the rich aroma.

"Well, say I know there's a pile of trash I wanna burn on the other side of a wall. If I picture it in my head, I can usually light it up."

"Usually?"

Flint's eyebrows knitted together and the arms crossed. "Yeah, so I'm not perfect! Not like I get a lotta practice."

Warren held up an apologetic hand. "No criticism intended. Just want to know how it works. What's your range?"

Flint shrugged. "Not sure. Haven't really tested that."

Warren nodded. "Too dangerous without help and stiff controls."

"Right. Could start one hell of a fire." The expression and body language opened up once again as the brief flare of offense passed.

"You have good control?"

"Do now. Not at first, though. Nearly burned down my own fuckin' house! God, what a disaster that almost was," Flint said, shaking his head.

"What about when you asleep?"

Flint's eyes widened. "Oh, man, you don't know how much sleep I lost thinkin' I'd burn myself alive in bed! Practically became an insomniac. But it's never happened. Not once. Don't know why."

Warren breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Nature sometimes provides a failsafe. Sounds like you're one of the lucky ones where dreams don't trigger the ability. Count your blessings."

"Oh, I do. Every mornin' I don't wake up toasted." Flint did look very relieved at his luck. "Another thing I can't ignite are bodies. I could set your hair or clothes on fire, but not actually your body. It has to be naturally…combustible – that's the word, right?"

"That's the word. So rocks, water, and so on – no go." Another nod of agreement. "Makes sense."

"How fast does it work?"

Flint grinned mischievously. "Wanna see?"

Warren gestured affirmative.

"Need to find something…" Flint said glancing around. Not many burnables on Volu. Then he spied the wrapper from his snack. "This will do." He snatched it up and placed it inside his beverage glass sitting on the floor next to the lounger. "Okay, I'll count to three and then start ignition."

Warren watched in fascination as Flint counted down. A heartbeat or two at most after "three" and the wrapper burst into flames.

"Pretty fast, huh?" Flint grinned with pride.

Warren agreed with a nod. "Does the object heat up first or simply ignite?"

A puzzled expression answered the question even before the teen spoke. "Ya know, I don't know. I mean, it's not like I'm usually holding onto what I set on fire." Flint rubbed the back of his neck absentmindedly. "Although… I don't recall the comic getting hot in my hands." Flint continued when Warren gave him an encouraging look. "First time my power kicked in. I was in my room reading, trying to take my mind off my tightarse step-dad. Man, I was mad! Next thing ya know, the comic's doing that spontaneous combustion thing. Dropped it on my bed and then the bedding caught on fire! Barely got it put out. Life went shit-faced after that. Mom thought I was "acting out." Flint made quote marks with his hands. "Darren said I was trouble and they had to do somethin' or I'd end up a criminal. And what could I say? Hey, there's no psycho problem here. No need for counseling or any of that crap. I'm just a fire-starting mutie is all. It was an accident. I won't burn the fuckin' house down – promise!"

Flint had pulled his legs up on the couch and was holding them tight to his chest. Pangs of empathy hit Warren hard. Alone with a huge secret that frightened the kid half to death. He remembered well how heavy and isolating that be. "You couldn't talk to your mom about what really happened?"

Flint shook his almost violently. "You kiddin'? She'd freak. Nope, best to do my time with the shrink and play the game. It worked – for Mom anyway. Don't think Darren ever trusted me again. Practiced til I could start fires easily and figure out kinda how it works. Don't remember the comic getting hot – it just burst into flames in my hands."

Warren wanted to extend an invitation to talk if the kid ever needed to, but decided against it. Perhaps later once they knew each other better and Flint would take the offer more to heart.

"Thanks for the explanation."

Flint released his legs and a twinkle came back in his eyes. "You're assessing your new teammates and our abilities, aren't you? Makes sense. We got some badasses after us and you're sizing up our ability to kick said asses!"

Warren gave the teen a sly smile. "Pretty sharp. I need to understand what you bring to a fight."

Flint eased toward Warren as if ready to share a secret. "Ya know, War, Gatebi's never said why those crazy Hydeera scientists wanted her. _Big_ mystery! Never seen her do nothing unusual, though, and we've been in some tough scrapes. Usually she leaves the rough stuff to the rest of us. Kinda nerdish, if you haven't already pegged her. Not sure how good she'd be in a real rumble."

"Perhaps she doesn't know she's a mutant?" Warren ventured then drained his cup.

"I don't get that. More like she isn't telling or they snatched her for somethin' else." Flint leaned back in a very confident pose. He obviously enjoyed being the man in the know. "She's got smarts, though. Not the in-your-face kind – doesn't make you feel too stupid or nothin', but she's got brains. Ask her 'bout the stuff she reads sometime."

Warren took that last information with a grain of salt. Flint came across as an average teenage male who probably thought anything beyond reading the latest comic or watching a computer game-based action flick was a sign of a high IQ.

"I'll keep it in mind. Anything more you can do than start fires?"

"Nope. Fire skillz it. You can count on me in a tussle, War. I won't let ya down."

Warren stood, empty coffee mug in hand. "Never thought for a moment you would," he complimented smiling down before turning to leave. 'Three down, one to go.'

###

_A/N: Hope what Warren learned here about his travel companions was interesting enough to hold your attention. Next time, rising sexual tension drives Warren to look for an outlet. And, the group arrives at Jandur. Chapter 19 will move us into the next phase. The quest for Etxan'Ir kicks in to high gear and with it more intrigue, danger, and action. _


	20. Chapter 19

_A/N: It's a long nine days from Earth to Jandur and Warren questions his ability to cope with certain aspects of the journey. _

**Chapter 19**

On Day 5, Warren woke up shaking like a leaf, damp from sweat, and fully aroused. The dream had been incredibly real – just as if he and Ztar were actually enjoying the most amazing, fiery sex. Now he needed a cold shower, but that wasn't going to happen in the middle of Volu's night without disturbing Flint. Groaning, he swung his legs over the edge of the uncomfortably hard pseudo bed he was growing to hate. He sucked in air to calm his body.

First, Ettwanae and her nearly irresistible sexual allure, then dreams of Ztar. Related? Obviously. Also likely, Warren's recent tryst with Ztar on Sat'rey had reawakened their bond. 'Jesus, why can't the universe ever cut me some slack!' He shook his head frustration.

In another vivid dream several nights earlier, Ztar was letting Warren go and it was filled with symbolism. This dream was all physical. Hot, steamy, and full of what Warren actually wanted to do with Ettwanae. Interpretation wasn't hard since he was "the man" with Ztar in the dream. That never once occurred in the five-plus imperial standard years they were together, and Warren had never desired it to be otherwise. Yet in this night's dream, their roles were reversed and Warren made love to Ztar as if Ztar were female. He rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his hair. 'Yep, War old boy, you want Ettwanae something bad. Dreams providing what reality denies.' Subconsciously, cravings for her were mixed up with memories and renewed longings for Ztar.

Warren came to grips with his lusty desires when it came to the Turzent long ago. No, Warren wasn't bi-sexual...with one singular exception – the man that could turn him into a quivering mass begging to get laid in less than 60 seconds. At least he had an explanation now for that wanton behavior – the metaphysical bond between them. Warren chose to believe that and not the reverse – that the bond was forged _because_ of lusty desires for the Turzent.

The minutes of quiet contemplation had eased the pain in his groin. He stood, left his room, and padded barefoot the few steps to Flint's hoping to use the toilet without waking the kid. Volu's barely there luminescence was enough to prevent groping in the dark. Mission accomplished without so much as a grunt out of the teenager, he returned to the tiny storage/bedroom, choosing to ignore the empty stomach gnawing his mid-section.

Crawling atop the makeshift bed, he laid in the dark thinking about the woman down the hall and everything he'd learned and decided thus far. He prayed it was the right decision – that he wasn't on a fool's errand with no hope of success. Yet if he didn't try, could he live with that? On the other hand, he was putting normal life again on the back burner. For a second time, he'd asked his old friend to monitor his company in his absence. Once again, Worthington Industries' Board questioned his commitment. If he didn't own controlling stock, they'd have ousted him out by now.

Before sleep began to dispel conscious thought, he reassured himself he could return home anytime if things didn't go well. A vision of Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz popped into his half-asleep brain, clicking her heels saying, "There's no place like home." The odd thing – Ztar and Ettwanae were standing in the background.

###

Day 8 found Warren lamenting for the umpteenth time the two things he disliked most about space travel – boredom and confinement. Jandur was nine imperial days from Earth at Volu's best speed. Nine days of being cooped up inside a ship that knew your every move, with an 18-year-old wisecracking Human, a bookish Alcab, and an Eshaaru that was driving his libido to the edge of frenzied. Each day only served to strengthen the Aru demand. There was no escape from the incessant sexual prodding. He was tighter than a violin string and mentally exhausted from constantly holding himself in check. One more day before they reached Jandur. One more day of a new kind of torture.

"Jesus, Worthington, what were you _thinking_!" he said aloud to himself in the bowels of Volu's lower level stores. It was as far away as he could physically get from Ettwanae and not be in the void of space. 'Sometimes, War ol' boy, you need to have your head examined.' That thought he kept to himself, still trying to remember that Volu heard everything – every muttering, each sigh, all the quiet groans he emitted when his mind drifted into daydreams of what he desired to do with Ettwanae. With a body that seemed dead set on being in a consent state of arousal, Warren had visited the bathroom more times over the past eight days to "relieve himself" than he'd ever admit.

He'd like to sit and talk with Ettwanae, get to know her more, but it was far too uncomfortable. Their talk on day two while helping her preen apparently triggered a sharp escalation in libido. He'd not repeat that mistake. It was the first harsh clue that their journey could end up feeling like an eternity. Shortly thereafter, he'd sought refuge in the lower level storage bay for the first time.

Sitting on a cargo tub in the corner, Warren took brief measure of the contrast between his current life and life of a year ago. While on Sat'rey, he had all the sex he wanted and then some. With another man, true, but his Turzent bedmate was incredibly skilled in the art of lovemaking, and the fact that Warren was straight hadn't really mattered. Sex with Ztar was amazing. Then he returned to Earth and sex was sporadic and unfulfilling. His two Human lovers couldn't match Ztar's abilities and left Warren frustrated and wanting. Now he found someone – rather, she found him – who promised to surpass Ztar, but they were being denied those pleasures by unseen forces from within themselves. He'd gone from white-hot sex, to frustrating sex, to no sex and tortured.

'You're cursed, Worthington. Somewhere along the line, you were hexed.' He let out a grunt at the thought. The next day, they'd be at Jandur and it was none too soon. He needed to get some distance between himself and Ettwanae for a while or risk losing all control…and maybe his sanity. The only thing that had kept them separated was the vivid memory of where amorous indulgence would lead.

'Beginning to think the pain would be a relief!' he muttered silently as he shifted uncomfortably on the crate he had commandeered as a chair. He found reading took his mind off that which he desperately wanted / wanted to escape from. With few pastimes available, Volu had kindly downloaded volumes of reading material and computer games to his PI. Out of apparent pity, the ship had relented and allowed Warren to use those functions of the device, but not the communication feature – those she insisted remain offline. In the span of just eight days, Warren's existence was reduced to reclusive reading in the back corner of the cargo hold.

His go-to distraction wasn't working on the next to last day before Jandur and irritability was escalating. No sitting position was comfortable. No recess within Volu was far enough away. The need to copulate had grown to an intensely burning, maddening itch he couldn't scratch. With a growl, he left his perch and began pacing the bay. He wanted his refuge that was the sky. He wanted his own bed. He wanted to not feel the gut-twisting lust.

'God, you're a moron, War,' he fumed. 'Should turn around right now and head back to Earth. Ridiculous! This whole damn quest is ludicrous! Rather live with the nannites than this shit.' Warren allowed his anger to flare. It helped mask the need. 'What were you thinking?' He threw up his hands in silent emphasis. 'Out in space trying to find some mystical library with a smartass kid and two alien women barely out of teenhood themselves, one of which you want to throw down on the nearest horizontal surface and fuck her brains out!'

He stormed back and forth, not caring if Volu was watching. 'You haven't a chance in hell of getting what you want – rid of the nannites or the girl. Cut your losses and go back home!' Wings spread as his ire grew. 'Rash, illogical, foolhardy – fools errand – snipe hunt! Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. Apparently, this angel _is_ the fool!' he punctuated the thought with a swift kick to a crate. 'God, need a danger room workout or something! Beating the shit out of someone right now would feel so-o-o good.'

Warren eyed the bay. If he moved a few crates to the sides, opened up the area in the middle, he could practice some fighting moves. Then keen eyesight caught an object that could be put to good use. A pole about the right length and diameter stood at attention against the wall. Its actual purpose he didn't know or care. Snatching it up, he gauged its heft and balance. 'Feels right. Should hold up.' It'd been quite some time since he'd wielded a fighting staff. 'Probably rusty,' he believed. Setting it back down, he began clearing the center of the bay, save one tall, very heavy crate – the pending victim.

Grabbing up his new weapon, Warren circled the imaginary enemy while performing a staff front spin. Feeling very much like Don Quixote, he lunged at the static target, one end of the staff tucked under his arm and the other pointed at the target, and proceeded to beat the shit out of his sparring partner. The crate took the swipes and jabs that he followed up with a helicopter spin ending in a blow that could have easily crushed a skull. Warren spun the rod around his body, tucking his wings close without conscious thought. He danced and dodged make-believe countermoves by his opponent, becoming a blur of fluid motion. The techniques he'd learned and practiced for years came easily and if the crate had been alive, it wouldn't have been for long.

After several minutes of pummeling his victim, he brought the staff to rest with a hard rap of one end to the floor, took a deep breath, and released it slowly. "Better," he said in satisfaction and relief. The gnawing need that had driven him to violence was tamed. For the time being, anyway.

"Warren?" Volu's almost hesitant voice wafted through the bay.

He'd forgotten for a while that he had an audience. "Yes?"

"That was impressive."

"Thanks."

"You have a lot of experience fighting." It was more statement than question.

Warren grinned. "You could say that," he replied.

"Your skill could be invaluable. Flint mentioned you belong to a group called the X-men. He told me the X-men kick ass, in his words."

Warren chuckled, "Yep – bad guy asses. But it's past tense. Haven't been an active X-man for a while now." He headed toward the small lift, needing a quick snack from the galley and then a shower.

"Tell me about it?"

"Another time, Volu. Right now, I'm hungry." Someday, he might share stories, but not that day.

Just as he was about to step onto the platform that would raise him to the second level, the Eshaar'ne spoke again. "The need will ease, but only so much." He stopped. "It will become easier, Warren, but the longing will not go away completely. It will ebb and flow for both of you. Ura – lifewill…your soul, has determined you and Ettwanae are to be as one. Through Aru, it will insist on compliance."

'While denying that very compliance – sadistic!' he riled silently, but calmed himself immediately. 'Are you strong enough for this?' he asked himself. 'Don't know.' The answer was truthful. The dangling carrots of freedom from the nannites and having Ettwanae in his arms were powerful incentives. He hoped they would give him enough strength to see their mission to its end.

"Then I guess the sparring ring needs to remain. Nothing like giving a no-good crate an ass-kicking to take my mind off what I can't have."

Impossible to explain, but Warren felt the ship smiled. "Then remain it shall. Perhaps a certain young Human can be taught some of your fighting techniques."

"He said something about that?" Warren guessed.

"The exact words were 'You think War would teach me a few moves? Not that I need lessons – can handle myself, but maybe I could add a couple new weapons to my arsenal.' "

That made Warren laugh. "Flint's cockiness will be his undoing."

"One of his more endearing traits." There was no missing the sarcasm.

Warren stepped onto the lift and it began the ascent. "Might be a good idea if everyone got some training."

"Flint and Ettwanae are good candidates. Gatebi will be resistant. She is not a fighter."

He moved off the platform and headed for the galley, hearing laughter immediately – _her_ laughter, coming from that very room. He swallowed. "Perhaps _defensive_ moves would be appropriate for both student and teacher," he suggested, wondering if the ship would pick up the double meaning. He was just steps from the galley and he steeled himself to be in her presence once again.

"Defensive capability is helpful under a variety of circumstances," Volu replied.

Warren grinned. She got it. And he walked into the galley where his defensive skills in the emotional and self-control arena would be tested yet again.

###

The next day, Volu slipped gently through Jandur space and atmosphere without problems, her phased state safeguarding them from system and planetary defenses. She explained a slow decent would make her appear as only a small, harmless atmospheric disturbance. Hunkered down outside the metropolitan area known as Reiis, they finalized plans for a visit to the museum where Ettwanae last saw the amulet's memory nodes. Everyone gathered in the galley for a quick meal before putting their plan into motion. The museum would be closing in less than two standard hours according to the intel Volu had gathered.

"And you're certain the nodes aren't there."

"My sensors do not detect them, Warren. It is possible someone has developed shields that block their energy signature, but it is unlikely. That would take technology few possess."

"I can think of a couple groups," Warren offered. He did not have to mention the Shozen or Etagllot by name.

"True," the Eshaar'ne admitted. "Yet even if I was unable to penetrate such shielding, I would detect its presence. I detect no such high-level shielding within the museum."

"I saw the thief myself. I know they were stolen," Ettwanae added.

"You should not reveal that to the curator," Gatebi suggested. "Doing so could raise unnecessary suspicions. Let the curator tell you they are missing."

"Good point," Warren agreed with a nod. "In fact, we should start out using the same story you gave him last time, unless there's some reason not to," he said catching Ettwanae's look. She shook her head. "Then that's our starting point. You're still a student researcher looking for information. I'll stay back in reserve."

"You sure me and Gabby shouldn't go? We could hang around like we're lookin' at stuff just in case you need backup."

Warren knew Flint wanted in on the action. Hopefully, there'd be no action to get in on. "This is an information gathering mission and I'm hoping to avoid trouble, but if there is any, it's better strategy if we're not all in the same location. Volu will be monitoring and alert you if we run into problems."

"Then we come in guns blazin', right?"

The glint in the teen's eyes was not what Warren wanted to see, but he wouldn't squash Flint's enthusiasm too much. "Well, perhaps a more stealth approach would be better, but that's the general idea."

"Don't ya worry, guys. We've got your backs," Flint proclaimed gesturing to indicate himself, Gatebi, and Volu.

Details where hammered out as they finished a quick pre-mission meal. With the museum's business day coming to a close, they headed out; Ettwanae in her Sat'reyan disguise and Warren's wings strapped to his body by his harness and hidden beneath a custom-tailored overcoat. Ettwanae's reaction to the harness was almost horror. "How can you _wear_ such a thing?" she'd asked in disbelief.

"You do what you must to blend in," he replied simply. He hadn't used an image inducer since his blue-skinned days – it just wasn't reliable enough. The harness and coat were trustworthy.

Volu had summoned an AI-controlled surface transport vehicle, or ASurT, to their location. Warren had earlier wondered about flying over to the museum, but quickly realized how dangerous that would be. Not only was the air above the city filled with air-cabs, shuttles, and courier 'shots' as they were apparently called, but airspace this close to the populace area was blanketed with traffic control scanners. A feather would be hard pressed to slip through unnoticed, Volu pointed out. And so they would travel to the museum via Jandur's version of a taxi. Volu would fake out the AI into thinking they paid the fare and ensure the ASurT stayed at its post until they were ready to leave the museum.

As they stepped out of Volu to await the ASurT, Warren looked longingly to the sky and his folded wings immediately ached for release. 'First the museum, then indulges,' he promised himself. Tearing his eyes away from beckoning teal-green firmament, he refocused on their ground-level surroundings – an open field not far from a roadway. Surface vehicles were zipping by at dizzying speeds. Most appeared to be automated cargo-haulers, which held some resemblance trains. He had seen them on Sat'rey and if the same on Jandur, they carried no passengers or personnel.

Warren turned back to the ship. "Can Volu decloak visually without revealing herself too much?" he asked Ettwanae.

After a momentary pause, Ettwanae nodded. "Volu says for a few seconds. Why?"

"Haven't really paid much attention to her exterior. I'd like another look, if she doesn't mind."

The air rippled like a desert mirage and Volu suddenly loomed before them. Warren took several steps back to take in the sight more fully and then began circling around to one side. Her graceful, curving, sculpted form was generally an equilateral triangle lying flat, rising higher in the center where the living quarters were contained, and tapering sharply to two narrow side points, almost like sweeping fins or wings. The third point trailed behind her, extending out to a long tip, almost like a tail. At the end of the tail was a flat, elongated oval attachment. Overall, Volu very much reminded Warren of a stingray, only she swam in the oceans of space.

There were no protrusions or anything to suggest windows, hatches, or other typical external ship's appurtenances. She rested on her belly – no landing gear. Warren estimated her overall length and width at roughly 70 feet and her height at the tallest point about 20 feet. He drew a hand along the leading edge of one fin. The surface was hard, glass smooth, and a buckskin tan. Volu suddenly disappeared from sight, startling Warren. He thought he could still feel her, but the sensation was odd – like knowing you were touching something, but your skin was numb.

"Volu says she needed to phase," Ettwanae informed.

Just then, an ASurT left the roadway and began barreling its way across the field to their location. "Time to go," he announced.

###

_A/N: The final paragraphs are thanks to xrystofer pointing out I hadn't yet described Volu's exterior. Her outward appearance was briefly explained in Circle Complete, but I completely overlooked that in this book. See how important reader feedback is? _

_Next time: The curator on Jandur is not keen on answering Ettwanae's questions, forcing Warren to employ more persuasive tactics._


	21. Chapter 20

_A/N: Chapter 20 already! A little longer one than we've had of late. Hopefully, worth sinking your teeth into. _

_We really get into the thick of the search now. What does the museum curator know? Can he point the way to the nodes? _

**Chapter 20**

"I remember you! The student researching the U'larr/Eshaaru legend – came to see the Zramynian memory nodes." A look of something more than recognition flickered across the curator's face that Ettwanae couldn't identify. He was not attractive to her tastes – squat, plump, a snouted nose, shiny dark gray eyes that were almost black with no whites, and his crinkly skin was a medium gray that looked like it should have been covered with a nap of fur. Perhaps somewhere in the species' distant past it had been.

"Yes."

"A little more than a standard year ago, if I'm recalling correctly. What brings you back to my museum?"

"I need more information. I was given one of these," she held the memory node out in her palm, "Do you still have the three I saw last time? I'd like to compare them to this one." She was careful to sound as if she hadn't a clue the nodes weren't in the museum. The curator leaned toward her out-stretched hand for a better look. She pulled it back.

"The nodes are no longer in our collection."

"Where are they?"

"Unknown. In truth, they were stolen. A terrible incident. The very _idea_ someone would desecrate such important artifacts for profit…" The curator shook his head. The answer and gesture were a little too practiced, she felt.

"When did this happen?" She made certain to sound dismayed.

The curator met her eyes in an almost daring look. "Shortly after your visit. You were fortunate to have come when you did…the last aside from me to see them. You say you were _given_ that node?" The man's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

She ignored the question. "Who would do such a thing?"

"I cannot say. There are the profiteers and there are others who seek the secrets of the ancients. Some will risk much for those ends."

She put on her best young, needful look. "What about the other artifacts? The ones that were with the nodes? Perhaps if I examined them more closely…"

"No longer here either. Moved for security reasons after the robbery."

"To another museum?"

"I am not privy to that information. They are safe, that is all I was told."

"But you're the curator. Certainly they told you where the artifacts were sent?"

"Sorry," he said dismissively, and started to back away. "I cannot help you. Now I must get back to my work." He turned and started toward a door at the rear of the room.

"Who moved them, can you at least tell me that?" she asked to his back, following him. "Please, this is important to me. I only want to examine them. There are so many questions…"

"And I have no answers," the short man dismissed with a wave of his hand, not bothering to turn around. "The artifacts are gone. There is nothing more I can tell you."

"But who took them? You must know."

The curator finally stopped and swirled to face her. "This research you should drop. Find another study subject."

Ettwanae jerked. "Why? What do you mean?"

"Exactly as I say."

"Please, Curator Tribo'lu. _Any_ information you may have could be helpful."

"The collection from Zramynian System is no longer in my museum. You must look elsewhere."

"But _where_?"

"This purported _research_ project must be very important…you sound desperate." His face hardened. "If you have friends resourceful and generous enough to give you an Eshaaru memory node, you don't need my assistance. I am returning to my duties." Turning from Ettwanae once again, the man continued toward the back exit.

Warren watched the exchange from the shadows, keeping out of sight. Curator Tribo'lu was lying. Warren could see it in the eyes and body language despite the man being a race he had only limited exposure to. And now their only known link to the missing nodes was shutting Ettwanae down and likely nothing she said would change that. He did not see her as threatening. Not in her Sat'reyan disguise. All the Wynnaran saw was a lone, young, unassuming female. Warren decided if they were going to learn anything, the situation called for more persuasive techniques.

He stepped out of the shadows. "Tribo'lu! Answer the lady's questions," he ordered in Turzent as he strode toward the pair at the opposite end of the display room.

The Wynnaran stopped in his tracks and watched Warren with suspicion. "Who are you?" the man demanded in return.

Warren closed in. "I think you know more than you are telling us, curator. All we want is who took artifacts."

The man eyed Warren carefully, studying his face. "You look familiar – I've seen you on the comnet news I think…"

"Who I am is irrelevant. We've come for information on the nodes you had in your possession. Answer her questions." Warren said firmly as he neared the curator.

"The artifacts are no longer in my museum. How much clearer can I be?"

"But where are they? Who took them and why?" Ettwanae asked.

"You'll not find what you are looking for here."

In one swift move, Warren grabbed the much shorter man by the throat and slammed him into the wall, raising him up so Wynnaran's feet dangled inches above the floor and they were eye-to-eye. He locked onto the dark-grey, pupil-less orbs and gave the alien a lethal glare, wishing he could spread his wings to add to the affect – they really did help him make a statement. "The lady asked nicely. I'm not so nice. Either you answer her questions or I start squeezing. Unless you breathe through something other than your throat, I suggest you tell us what you know. Am I making _myself_ clear?"

The man managed a nod, his eyes wide. The hands clamped around Warren's wrists shook slightly. Warren lowered him to his feet. "Where are the artifacts?" Warren eased his grip, but only enough to allow the curator to speak more easily.

"I- I can't. They will kill me…or worse! You must understand. They are ruthless!"

"Who?"

"I can't tell you!"

Warren narrowed his eyes to slits. "You are trying my patience."

"They will _know_! Please, I cannot," the man pleaded, fear rising.

The curator may have believed what he said, but it didn't matter. "Then you die here today. Is that what you want? Over a simple request for information? Is that worth your future?"

"I speak, I have no future. Dead either way."

"Where there's life, there's hope. You tell us what you know and we let you live. If not…" Warren tightened the chokehold producing the expected strangled sounds and clawing at his hands in a vain attempt to break free. Failing there, Tribo'lu kicked; it hurt, but Warren had endured far worse and maintained his grip. When the curator stilled, he eased up and the Wynnaran took a deep breath and then sudddenly relaxed.

"Kill me," the man made a show of bravery. "If I say anything, I'm dead already."

Warren leaned his face very close. "As I see it, you can choose to die now or later. Later, you have a chance if you run. A chance to live. Choose now, and you'll get no such chance. Only a fool would throw away his life when there's hope," Warren explained with ominous tones. "Now _choose_!" he snarled. The man jumped in his grasp.

"They took them, but I don't know where." Warren squeezed. "I _don't_, I vow it!" Tribo'lu squeaked.

"Who are they?"

The curator's eyes darted around as if he expected to see someone jump out of the shadows. "Etagllot," came the whispered reply.

"Etagllot?" That surprised Warren. How was that illicit organization involved? Weren't they bio-scientists?

"They took the remaining artifacts to keep them safe. Wise considering the memory nodes were stolen by two different thieves." The Wynnaran gave Warren a cold look. "The node she showed me is one of the stolen, isn't it?"

Warren choked off any more accusations. "I'm asking the questions. Who would steal the nodes?"

"All the typical suspects."

"Indulge me…"

"Seekers, for one."

"Seekers?" Warren and Ettwanae exchanged glances. Her expression said "not a clue."

The curator's eyes darted from Warren to Ettwanae. "You are obviously searching for Etxan'Ir, but don't know about the Seekers?" Disbelief was unmistakable in Tribo'lu's tone.

Warren retightened his hand around the throat. "What we know or don't know isn't relevant to your survival. Tell us about these Seekers."

"Independent searchers for the U'larr and the Library of all Knowledge. They believe Etxan'Ir exists and are trying to find it. Seekers also believe that if they find the right artifacts, they will lead them to Etxan'Ir."

Warren eased up on the curator. "Who else wants the artifacts?"

"The Dark Ones. They have vast resources behind their search."

Warren sensed a change in their informant. Was he making the psychology jump from resistance to begrudging cooperation? Warren released his hold and took a half-step back to encourage more of the same. "For the sake of discussion, let's say we don't know who these Dark Ones are. Enlighten us."

Tribo'lu smiled ever so slightly at Warren's backhanded admission. 'Good.' If he could get the man on their side, so to speak, they may learn much. He'd never met a museum curator who didn't enjoy flaunting his knowledge.

After straightening his clothing, the Wynnaran spoke. "If you are seeking Etxan'Ir, and didn't know you have competition, you are very naïve. That naivety will get you killed, though at the moment I can't say I would be upset." He gave Warren a hard look while rubbing his neck that already showed signs of bruising beneath the gray coloring.

"Stick with answering the questions."

"The Seekers as I said are mostly independents, but within a loosely organized…association is the best word. They tend to share information amongst themselves. The Dark Ones, though, have vast resources behind them and from what I've heard, are highly organized. They are decidedly anti-social. Don't mess with them, not if you value your life."

"Do you think one of those groups stole the memory nodes?" Ettwanae stepped closer.

"That would be my guess, and because of the sophistication of the robbery, I'd have to say Dark Ones. Yet, it is not beyond what less honorable Seekers or even a rogue searcher has been known to do."

"And the rest of the artifacts were taken by the Etagllot?" The man nodded. "Why would they want them?"

Tribo'lu made a gesture that Warren couldn't read; it felt like a sign of disbelief or amazement. "You truly are novices! You have no idea as to what you're meddling in, do you? Two first-level amateurs that in all likelihood are not going to survive the year. That is your fate if you continue as you are. Come with me!" The man commanded in irritated tones, taking a step toward the rear exit, but Warren blocked his way. "If you want to know anything, let me pass. We're going to my office to educate you."

The man's demeanor had changed before their eyes and he appeared temporarily on their side likely seeing that as his best survival option. Warren would encourage the change, but remain wary of anything underhanded. This man he would not trust for an instant. He let Tribo'lu pass and they followed through the backrooms of the museum until coming to what was obviously an office. Stacks of old books, artifacts, and papers covered every surface. It looked as though no one had cleaned in years. Such a stark contrast to the immaculate museum display rooms.

"Sit where you wish, just put things aside."

"Any wrong moves, any attempt to signal for help…" Warren warned in a threatening voice.

"I know, I know…my life is forfeited," the man's attitude had gone from fearful to cavalier, perhaps from surviving similar predicaments more than once in the past. Settling at his desk, Tribo'lu activated his computer interface and the holo-image winked on displaying the likeness of a Wynnaran female's face. "Greetings, Nedii," the computer voice welcomed with warmth. "It is good to see you. Your day is a good one?"

"No time for talking now, Peka," the man answered in an almost embarrassed rush.

"You sound stressed. Is everything well?" the AI pressed in perfect Imperial Turzent while the hovering face took on a concerned expression.

"Not now!" Tribo'lu hissed.

"Very well." The artificial intelligence interface actually sounded offended.

Warren exchanged an amused look with Ettwanae.

"Bring up file Nexus One, security code Peka'lu."

'Oh, that's just too funny a coincidence.' Warren laughed inwardly at the phonetic similarity. 'Peekaboo – Pekalu!'

"As you command, Nedii." A sharpness to the tone indicated one slightly pissed AI, at least to Warren's estimation. He smirked as the data file revealed itself, replacing the female face. Warren moved around behind Tribo'lu where he could see the man's hands and gestured Ettwanae to pull a chair up to the desk.

Tribo'lu waved at the image. "These are my records on the search for Etxan'Ir – what I've managed to piece together over the years. It's as close as I'm getting to that twisted plot. Too easy to be pulled into the endless stratagems. Paranoia is a common affliction amongst searchers. You two," he shook his mole-like head, "need to find another hobby before it's too late."

"Just tell us what you know," Warren pressed, "and spare us your advice."

"I warned you – you can never say no one warned you."

"And if it's so dangerous, why do you keep these records?" Ettwanae leaned in closer. The file started out with a very intriguing question, Etxan'Ir – Real or Legend?

"Because in my area of expertise, people come to me often with their questions."

Warren looked down at the Wynnaran. "And that area of expertise would be…"

"The U'larr. Why else do you think the relics you seek were brought here to confirm their authenticity? I have established a reputation as a leading expert in U'larr relics and-"

Warren cut him off. "And what was your conclusion?"

Tribo'lu sniffed his annoyance. "They were as their finders believed – U'larr. More precisely, U'larr talismans and Eshaaru memory nodes."

"That much you told me last time I visited. You also explained the talismans and nodes couldn't be activated, so you were unable to unlock their secrets."

The curator waved agreement. "Unless you are Eshaaru or U'larr, the artifacts will remain locked. No one that I know of has been able to break through the security measures."

"If the artifacts are useless, why are people after them?" Warren questioned.

"Because," the man sighed, "they hold the key to finding Etxan'Ir. Some believe you only need to bring the right artifacts together – that proximity is itself a key and once they are unlocked, the way to Etxan'Ir will be shown whether or not you are U'larr or Eshaaru. That is what the Seekers believe, and so they search for whatever artifacts they can find, trying all manner of combinations, hoping they'll stumble across the correct combination. Foolish!"

"Why is it foolish?" Ettwanae questioned.

"Because nothing in the writings indicate that is the case. Oh, yes, if you twist a meaning here or reinterpret a passage there, you could contrive that to be what the writers meant. I've studied the text and in my opinion, there is nothing that supports the concept."

"Writings?" Ettwanae questioned.

Another exasperated sigh emanated from the curator. "Yes, the Teigon writings," came the sharp retort. Ettwanae shook her head. "The Vjete System artifacts?" Ettwanae produced a blank look and Tribo'lu snorted quite loudly. "Of all the naive, amateurish, uneducated…" The irritated curator left the rest of his condemnation unspoken.

Ettwanae blinked wide-eyed at the gruff attitude, hurt showing. Warren had enough as protective feelings swept through him. Leaning in close, he whispered deadly nothings into the man's ear. Tribo'lu flinched and blanched. Warren pulled back. "Let's go back a step. Who all is after Etxan'Ir?"

"Besides the Seekers and Dark Ones, there are the unaligned searchers." The man's tone was tense. "Peka, go to the Searchers section of this file." Immediately a list of names popped up. "These are the individuals I'm aware of."

Ettwanae and Warren took a breath. "The list is long!" Ettwanae gasped.

Tribo'lu waved at the display. "And these are just ones I know of…people who've come to me over the years that are obviously on their own. Many don't give a name, so I've listed them as anonymous. To date, I have 106 anonymous. The names I do have are probably false. One of the first things searchers learn is to keep their identities to themselves. Those who were obviously serious searchers are noted as such."

"How do you tell who's serious and who's not?"

"Young lady, if they are as naïve as the two of you, they are not serious, or at least they haven't been in the hunt long. Amateurs and the uninformed – they are the ones who get themselves in trouble. That'd be you and your friend here. Apparently, you haven't learned much since last time we talked."

Warren ignored the criticism – apparently the man recovered quickly from the warning, but he chose to let it go. "So in addition to Seekers, we've got individual Searchers who aren't associated with any group. And the Etagllot…what's their interest?"

"They've got an agenda, but I don't have a clue as to what that is. They brought the artifacts here to be authenticated with very clear instructions that I was to comm whenever someone came asking about the nodes."

Ettwanae turned her head sharply to Warren, her eyes wide. / _Volu? _/ She immediately felt the Eshaar'ne's presence. / _I think we've learned how the Etagllot learned I was on Jandur last time. The curator works for them._ /

/ _Our suspicions are confirmed._ /

/ _Talk more later,_ / she signed off.

"So every time someone came asking questions about the artifacts, you commed the Etagllot?" she accused.

The man waved his hands. "No, no. Only if they came asking about the _nodes._ Understand, no one was suppose to know they were here. The other artifacts, yes – a public announcement went out that new U'larr talisman were on display, but the _nodes_ were never mentioned or put on public display. Which meant if someone asked about them, they had inside information." The Wynnaran's shiny eyes locked on Ettwanae. "You never did tell me how you knew they were here."

"Inside information," she offered with a smug grin.

"Can't we have an open exchange? I tell you secrets, you tell me secrets."

Warren placed his hand on the man's shoulder and squeezed – hard. The curator stiffened. "This is already an exchange, Tribo'lu. You tell us secrets, I don't kill you." The man nodded nervously. "Back to the Etagllot."

"Peka, open Etagllot section." As the data came up, Tribo'lu pointed to the image. "This is the data I've gathered or concluded. The Etagllot organization…you _do_ know something about who and what they are, yes?"

"We are familiar with the organization."

"At least there is _something_ you know," the man jabbed sarcastically to Warren. "They've been trying to find Etxan'Ir for decades apparently. One of their pet projects. Why? Don't know, don't care, but wherever artifacts turn up, they seem to be one of the first on the scene, at least according to what others have told me."

Warren's concern was heightened. If the Etagllot were involved in more than just illicit scientific bio research, what else did they have their mitts into? "And why would you be in cahoots with them?" Warren demanded.

"No choice. They threatened me if I didn't cooperate. I heard the stories, I'm not a fool. I do as they demand. I won't lose my life over a few relics."

"Or lose sleep over any guilt of betrayal," Warren sneered at the realization the man was responsible for ratting out Ettwanae a year earlier. The curator ignored him.

"So the Etagllot are searching for Etxan'Ir for unknown reasons. Various individuals also. And the Seekers, an organized group?" Ettwanae prodded.

"Loosely organized. More like a cooperative of individual searchers. Peka, display Seekers records." New data filled the screen. Relic names, locations, dates – the list was long. "As you can see, I've had a few Seekers here over the years. I've listed what they were asking about and other information."

"And how did you know these people were Seekers and not individuals?" Something didn't ring true to Warren.

"It's not like they announced themselves, if that's what you're thinking. No, I use deductive reasoning. I deem someone a Seeker when their search is at a higher level of sophistication. When they know things that individual searchers usually do not – if their philosophy and knowledge fits the Seeker profile." Then he looked up at Ettwanae again. "Which is what I thought you were at first, but the more we talked, but more I realized you weren't. Too naïve, too many holes in your knowledge. A Seeker would have known much more than you. You weren't a novice either – you had details that an individual searcher wouldn't have known. I couldn't categorize you."

"So I'm in your database?" she wanted to know.

"Yes. You're on a very short list I call the Enigmas." Then the man became very still.

"Tribo'lu, what should we know about your Enigmas?" When he didn't answer immediately, Warren leaned down close to the Wynnaran's small ear. "Bring up the file and explain," he commanded in dire tones. He could hear the man swallow.

"Peka, Enigma file." The list was short indeed, Enigma One through Seven.

"Which one am I?"

"Peka, access subfile Enigma Seven."

Warren and Ettwanae read the accompanying text. _Female, Sat'reyan, very young adult. Inquired about the three Eshaaru amulet memory nodes and other artifacts recovered from Zramynian System. The mention of nodes immediately piqued interest – how did she know they were here, including the number recovered? Claimed to be an archeological student researching the U'larr, but have serious doubts of the truth of that story. Unusually knowledgeable of Eshaaru culture and racial characteristics, as well of U'larr history – including information generally unknown to casual searchers and even most Seekers, yet apparently ignorant concerning The Search. Detected no connections with any known organized efforts. Sensed an almost desperation, but unlike usual searcher fervor…more personal, best description. Showed her the nodes and observed carefully. An emotional reaction was evident, though the female attempted to hide it. Something clearly different about this searcher. Too many contradictions and unexplainables. Could indicate Seeker or other affiliation, yet seemingly oblivious to information well known to those organizations. After careful consideration, added to Enigma list._

It was odd reading about the event from someone else's perspective. Ettwanae chided herself over the slip regarding the nodes. He was right – how would she know they were at the museum? If Volu hadn't said her sensors detected three nodes, she wouldn't have. And as far as she and Volu knew, only Eshaaru and Eshaar'ne could sense amulet memory nodes, so the curator had every right to be suspicious. The situation had all the indicators of a trap.

"So you see how your novice behavior endangers you? Your small mistake flagged you immediately. This is not a game for the naïve. The two of you should stop now while you are still…unharmed," Tribo'lu warned again.

Warren pressed on. "Etagllot, Seekers, Searchers…you mentioned the Dark Ones. Who are they?"

A visible shiver ran through the Wynnaran. "Someone you don't want to encounter. They make the Etagllot look like sentientarians." That was a new Turzent word for Warren. Without his embedded translator turned on, he wasn't sure of the meaning, but dread emanated from the Tribo'lu. "Answer the question."

"The Dark Ones don't call themselves that. It's a moniker given them by others. Very nasty group. Just as soon kill you as not, particularly if you get in their way."

"Is that how they got the name – from being evil?" Ettwanae asked as she shifted in her chair. This was becoming more and more fascinating and alarming. How could she have been searching this long for her people, her family's possessions, and Etxan'Ir and not have learned more? 'We _have_ been naïve, if what he's saying is true.'

"In part. From what I've been told, the Dark Ones also appear to be just that – beings of darkness. Some hypothesize they are one of the ancients races. Others say they're from another dimension with unknown schemes for this dimension. Still others speculate they are simply an ultra-secret society of searchers who use fear and intimidation and will stop at nothing to find Etxan'Ir to obtain its knowledge."

"Beings of darkness? Another dimension?" That truly piqued Ettwanae's interest. How did that play against Ozshi'wanae – the goddess of light? "What do they look like?"

Tribo'lu shook his head. "One Seeker told me he'd seen a Dark One once and lived to tell. He was obviously shaken by the experience and at first didn't wish to discuss it. But I'm good at getting people to talk…usually," he said with a quick glance over his shoulder at Warren. "What he described was a shadow being – a black form with no identifying features. Corporeal, yet perhaps not. When he was describing them, it reminded me of the U'larr. Are you aware of the theory that says they were barely corporeal? Physical beings that weren't fully solid. That could be behind the hypothesis that the Dark Ones are really one of the ancients."

"I've heard the theory, yes," Ettwanae confirmed. "So we have four kinds of searchers – Searchers, Seekers, Etagllot, and the Dark Ones, correct?" The curator gestured yes.

"The playing field's pretty crowded," Warren injected. "Anyone else?"

"Aside from those on my Enigma list, not that I'm aware of. But my knowledge is limited and only from information I've been able to glean from others over the years. I am not directly involved in the search."

"And from your keen observation skills, what are the reasons people want to find Etxan'Ir?"

Tribo'lu let out a strange guttural sound that Warren assumed was the Wynnaran equivalent of a laugh. "I hope that you are simply verifying your knowledge against mine and that you are not truly that ignorant. For the power of course. Power that comes from vast knowledge. Can you image if you possessed all the knowledge of the ancient races? All the knowledge of the emerging races from tens of thousands of years? You would be almost omnipotent!"

"That's it? Just the drive to rule over others?" Warren was actually disappointed it was that simplistic. Alien races were no different than Human; someone always wanting to subjugate someone else.

"Or the drive to prevent that from happening," the curator clarified. "The Seekers are determined to prevent Etxan'Ir from falling into malevolent hands."

Ettwanae shot a look up to Warren. "Really? You're certain of this?"

The Wynnaran splayed his hands. "When it comes to the Search, nothing is a certainty. There is layer upon layer of mystery, players, agendas, and conspiracy surrounding it. As I said before, your naivety endangers you. My advice is to either learn what you need to know or stop now."

"Stopping is not an option."

"Then, my assailant, you need to get educated."

"By you," Warren stated flatly.

"No. By someone who knows much more than I do. I am a museum curator, not a searcher. I only record what I've learned out of professional curiosity…a bit of a hobby. Safer than actually participating, normally." He rubbed his bruised throat. "You need to find someone with in-depth knowledge who's willing to part with it."

Ettwanae locked eyes with Tribo'lu. "You can point us in the direction of someone?"

"I can, but I also warn you. Trust no one, not even the person I name."

Warren leaned down next to Tribo'lu's head. "First, though, you will tell us where the Etagllot took the artifacts. Or did you think we forgot about that little part?"

The curator shook his head. "Not for a moment. The remaining artifacts likely were taken to one of the Etagllot's secret facilities. Where that is, I can't even begin to guess, but there are others who know more."

"And you believe the Dark Ones took the nodes?" Warren wanted confirmation of the man's opinion.

A hand gesture signaled agreement. "Yes, based on the sophistication of the thievery."

"And you're going to tell us names and places to continue our search, correct?" Warren informed matter-of-factly.

"I choose to believe you are honorable and will not kill me after you get what you want. Is my belief foolish?" Tribo'lu twisted to look up and back at Warren.

"I keep my pledges, curator. If you tell us what we want to know, you live. But should I find that you have lead us astray or into a trap, all pledges are void. You understand the terms?" Warren noticed an ever so slight shiver in the Wynnaran as the man held Warren's cold stare.

"Understood. The best person for what you seek is Tider. Not his real name, though. And I don't know his real name, if you're planning to ask," the curator added quickly. "Go to Tchutchka Centrus, to the city of Im. You can't miss it – biggest city on the planet, which isn't saying much. Find the antiquities shop called Bjuitsi. Ask for the shop owner. Tell him Raijis in Keeping sent you. That's my code phrase."

"And giving him that…will his reaction be positive or negative?" Warren wanted to know what sort of reception to expect.

"He and I have an understanding. He will be cautious, but not hostile if that's what you're asking."

Ettwanae cocked her head in that avian way that made Warren smile inside. "This understanding you have, what does that mean?"

"He knows I will only send to him the most intriguing of searchers. Those that show promise of holding information he doesn't have. My Enigmas."

"Why didn't you tell me about him last time I visited – I'm obviously on your list."

Tribo'lu's dark eyes got darker if that was possible. He held Ettwanae's gaze firmly. "Because at the time, the Etagllot were watching me, or rather they were watching for whomever may come looking for the artifacts. They would have followed you to Tider. He isn't fond of the Etagllot and would not appreciate a visit from you with them in tow."

"And the Etagllot are not watching you now?" Warren demanded.

"No. The artifacts are gone. I'm instructed to contact them about anyone who comes inquiring, but I am not under surveillance. My museum is no longer worth the effort."

Warren wasn't as certain of that as the curator seemed to be. "So when we leave here, you will contact the Etagllot and inform them we were here."

"Yes."

Warren stepped back to get a full view of the alien who just admitted he'd betray them. "And I shouldn't kill you why?"

Tribo'lu swung around to face Warren. "Because you vowed you would not if I told you what I know. I have, including that I will report to the Etagllot. I have given you the advantage of knowing they will know."

"Your argument is that since you warned us of your betrayal, you should live."

"If I warned you, is it truly betrayal? The Etagllot will ask the same of me. I walk a thin line; one that I hope will keep me alive."

Warren was silent long enough to hopefully make the curator sweat. A slight but distinct flicker of the eyes told Warren the man's wariness was growing. "Very well. We've been warned. How much time do we have before you reveal us to the Etagllot?"

"I will give you a day. Things happen in museums – unexpected emergencies that delay submitting routine reports. I suggest that you lay in your best speed to Tchutchka Centrus. The Etagllot have many operatives."

"I want a copy of all your files," Warren demanded.

"That request I cannot fulfill."

"Are they worth your life?"

"I didn't say I wouldn't, I said I cannot. The files will self-erase if anyone attempts to copy them. Etagllot technology – I have no control or any override abilities. I can enter information only. A price I paid for my life once before."

/ _Volu? _/

/ _Yes, Poda._ /

/ _The curator has files on his computer that contains information we want. He claims they will self-erase if anyone attempts to copy them. Can you bypass that security? The files are under Nexus One and Enigma, security code Peka'lu._ /

/ _Working._ /

Ettwanae caught Warren's eyes and pointed up with one finger. He nodded. Eshaar'ne were designed to retrieve data from worlds across the galaxy. If anyone could get through the firewalls, Volu could.

"I choose to believe you, curator. This Tider, he knows where the Etagllot keep their artifact stashes?"

"If anyone does, he does. He also knows a great deal about the search and many of the searchers. If you reward him appropriately, he will reveal much."

"As in credits?" Ettwanae asked. They had no money.

Tribo'lu cocked his head. "Yes and no. Tider deals in information. A broker of sorts. Sometimes he will accept a like-kind exchange." The grin that crossed the curator's face was not comforting. "If you two get anything from him, it will surprise me. He detests novices."

"Anything more we need to know about Tider?"

The Wynnaran was hesitant. Warren leaned down to the man's small ear. "Don't make me ask again," he warned, low and threateningly.

The curator stiffened and sniffed. "Beware of his shop assistant. She is far more than she appears. Several have died at her hands when they foolishly threatened Tider."

Warren righted himself. "This Tider better be worth the trip, Tribo'lu. If not, I'll be paying you another visit to express my displeasure."

"He is, if you can pay. Searchers of worth go to him for what he knows. That's what keeps him alive – people need him to know things. It serves everyone that Tider remains alive and well."

Warren eased around to the front of the desk. "That doesn't make sense. Certainly the Etagllot, or Dark Ones, or somebody could just steal everything he has and kill him."

Tribo'lu smiled a patronizing grin. "That just proves my point about how naïve you are. The two of you have no concept of the game into which you are entering."

"Then I guess we need to get educated, as you said. Starting with Tider."

"If you have no information of interest to him, make sure you are able to pay to satisfy your appetite. Tider's knowledge does not come inexpensively."

Warren leaned over and rested his hands on the front of curator's desk, watching for signs of deception. "Is there anything more of substance you can tell us?"

"No. Tider is your best source."

Warren righted himself. The man was being truthful from what he could read of the body language, vocal tones, and other typical indications of deceit, if those signs held for Wynnarans. 'Sure could use a telepath right about now,' he lamented. Without one, he'd go with his instincts. "Then we are done here. You live."

Ettwanae got up and moved to stand next to Warren. "Thank you, Tribo'lu, for your cooperation."

The man smiled oddly at her. "I only hope that I survive my cooperation." As Warren and Ettwanae turned to leave, the Wynnaran spoke again. "I just wonder what a Sat'rey female and a member of Ztar's Court have in common?"

Warren stopped in his tracks. Tribo'lu recognized him after all, even without the wings. He hadn't wanted that revealed. 'Damn trial coverage!' He'd not let on to the curator that the man's revelation had rattled him. Glancing back, he locked eyes with the curator, and smirked. "Lust."

At first, the man looked surprised, then he let out a loud laugh that rang through the office as Warren and Ettwanae continued to walk. Then just as they were about to exit the display room, a roar reverberated throughout the museum, much louder than one would expect to erupt from the diminutive Wynnaran.

"_NO!_ My files! Years of data! No, no, _no!_ What have you _done_? Damn you! _Damn you-u-u!_"

Warren and Ettwanae quickened their pace to a trot as Tribo'lu's curses followed them out the exhibit room and toward the main entrance. "I'd guess that Volu tried to copy the files," he ventured as they burst out of the museum at a full run.

"Shall I assume we forfeited our one-day lead time?" Ettwanae questioned as they dove into the waiting ASurT.

"Safe assumption."

/ _Volu, success?_ /

/ _Some. I will explain more when you are safely here._ /

Both were lost to their own thoughts for most of the hurried ride back to Volu. As they left the city, Warren slid a look at the woman whose closeness was beginning to become uncomfortable. Surprisingly, the urges had held off during their mission and he thanked whatever was responsible for that bit of good fortune, but now sitting beside her, their mission over…

She finally glanced his way and smiled sweetly. 'Oh, Jesus, don't do that!' he groaned in secret.

"That went very well! I could never have gotten Tribo'lu to talk the way you did."

"You have to find the right persuasive technique for any given situation. I felt intimidation would work on the curator. Sorry, if that offended you."

The answering shake of her head caused the golden hair to move sensually around her face and his body began its familiar response. 'Stop it, Worthington…' he warned himself.

"It did not. As you said before, we must do what is necessary. You didn't hurt him, just made him think you might. You'd never really hurt him, but Tribo'lu didn't know that."

He only nodded. He wouldn't tell her that if he had to, he could hurt someone…badly. 'For now, let Ettwanae live with whatever preconceptions she might have. The truth will be revealed soon or later.'

###

Once safely out of the Jandur System, the group gathered for a debriefing and everyone was brought up to speed.

"So we's off to Tchutchka?" Flint said, popping a candy of some sort into his mouth. The kid subsisted mostly on alien junk food as far as Warren could tell.

"Yes," Ettwanae confirmed.

"How long 'fore we're there?" Flint wondered crunching noisily on his sweet treat.

"At my best speed, 7.3 standard days."

Warren groaned internally… seven lo-o-n-ng days…

"This information broker does offer new possibilities," Gatebi ventured. "We may learn much from him. That is what has held us back in the past – lack of information."

"As long as we can pay for it," Warren reminded. "Or extract it by other means."

Flint sat upright at that. "You leaned on the museum guy, didn't ya? I _knew_ it! God, wish I'd been there – _shoulda_ been there. With Tider, War, the girls stay on Volu. Safer. Then you and me, we can do what needs to be done, ya know? Tider won't fuck with _us_. And if he does…well, all I can say is fire convinces people real fast!"

'Sometimes, Flint isn't the brightest spark,' Warren thought to himself as he watched the expressions on the faces of "the girls." Ettwanae had frowned and crossed her arms in a very Human-like gesture of perturbedness and Gatebi's scowl would have frightened off a rabid pit bull. In stark contrast, Flint was displaying a humorous mix of male swagger and hopeful eagerness as he looked to Warren.

"Gatebi and I are hardly children, Flint!"

Warren didn't feel like listening to a squabble. Raising his hand, he offered an explanation. "A translation error. 'Girl' has a different meaning in our native language than how it translates to Turzent. It's slang for young woman." Ettwanae and Gatebi's eyed him with some suspicion. "Universal translators aren't perfect. And," he continued when Ettwanae opened her mouth to undoubtedly object to Flint's other faux pas, "_I'll_ decide who meets with Tider just before we go down. It's not a discussion item for this meeting."

Warren's assumption of leadership from Ettwanae included making decisions that potentially left no one happy. One of those minor moments had just occurred. Might as well acknowledge it and move on. "Now that everyone is pissed off at _me_, let's hear from Volu. What were you able to retrieve from Tribo'lu's computer?" The Eshaar'ne had been surprisingly quiet thus far. That left Warren curious.

"The curator's computer was unusually well protected and it took me much longer than typical to break through. I have not previously encountered technology as sophisticated, which raises questions as to its origins."

"Tribo'lu said it was Etagllot handiwork."

"That is a possible explanation, Warren." The Eshaar'ne sounded dubious. "Despite the advanced safeguards, I was able to retrieve some data before the self-erasure routine destroyed it. The curator had an extensive collection of information regarding the search for Etxan'Ir. My focus was on data concerning the nodes or Etxan'Ir. I found nothing to indicate he knows the location of either. Failing there, I proceeded to upload, but the AI instantly began destroying files. The eradication routine was quite robust, affecting all areas simultaneously. If not for my advanced techniques, I would have retrieved only unusable fragments." The Eshaar'ne's tone hinted of pride.

"What did you get?"

"Tribo'lu's visitor profiles – searchers inquiring about U'larr artifacts."

"Anyone of interest?"

"One – a visitor many years ago. The first one he classified as an enigma. A mysterious woman unusually knowledgeable in the ways of the Eshaaru, as he stated it. She visited him more than once to sell artifacts of exceptional quality and value."

"How long ago?" Ettwanae asked.

"Eighteen point three standard years ago."

"Did she give him a name?" Gatebi posed obvious the question.

"She did, though it surprises me she would reveal her true name. She and Tribo'lu must have developed a trust."

Ettwanae stiffened and her eyes went wide. "Volu, what was her name?" The Eshaaru's voice was tight.

"T'Qilla."

Ettwanae went white and gripped the edge of the table. "Dear goddess!"

###

_A/N: Okay, everyone, I'd really, really need feedback on this chapter. Xrystofer and I need some company. Comments, observations, questions? Have I successfully built suspense? Created more mystery? Revealed enough to keep you wondering about what's really going on?_

_Next chapter: Want to know more about the Shozen? The Elders? And what is Ettwanae's reaction to hearing her mother's name? Stick around._


	22. Chapter 21

_A/N: Spent quite a bit of time wrangling with whether or not it is too soon in the story to reveal what I do in this chapter, hence was hesitant to post it. 'Once posted, there is no going back,' I told myself. Another part said it was time. Obviously, in the end, I decided to plunge ahead and disclose aspects of one of the key behind-the-scenes forces. Sometimes I think I tend to keep information withheld beyond the point when I should shed some light what has been hidden or only hinted of. We still have plenty of unanswered questions and mysteries in Soulbound, including ones associated with group exposed here. _

_In the end, though, readers will be the judge. And so, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I dive in, hoping not to belly flop!_

**Chapter 21**

The Council of Elders' holographic likenesses were projected in a circle at each of their locations. In reality, the members were scattered throughout the borders of the Etxan'Ir Trient that symbolically represented roughly one-third of the Awn'Va Galaxy, as their ancestors had named it. Phai had sent the summons to discuss recent events and quell objections she knew would rise up. Not all were advocates of her methods. She surveyed the ring from her Elder of Elders chair. Three seats were empty, but they had a quorum. Unfortunately, the quorum was not weighted in her favor.

Directly across from her sat Elder Ary who was assigned to Parma-Sentois Alliance. He was a conservative – too conservative in Phai's opinion. They'd get nothing accomplished if he sat in her chair. Cquax in appearance, the guise was apropos. Evolution had not changed the Cquax much over the eons. A roundish, hard-shelled body with two legs and four arms, one of which included a pincer that Ary clicked when nervous or agitated. A small head rested directly on the torso, forgoing a neck. At the opposite end of the body, a short pointed tail protruded that seemed to serve no particular purpose. If threatened, the species could curl up to protect more vulnerable areas, leaving only sturdier armor exposed to an attacker.

Next to Ary sat Sequi. He monitored the Turzent Empire and held no love for its ruler despite the Council's decisions regarding Ztar. The Elder carried his sturdy, robust Turzent shroud well. Black-crimson hair hung to broad shoulders, medium-toned olive-brown skin enhanced the muscular frame, and deep brown eyes with gold flecks and no whites held an intensity few could match. Sequi presented a tall, dark, intimidating presence, which he used to its advantage at times. Sequi was more often than not a thorn in Phai's side, but he often made valid arguments and while the man riled her at times, she always at least considered his objections.

Representing the Trisadient Worlds was Elder Olar. Its chosen form was an androgynous species called the Ji. Small in stature, slender to the point of looking frail, the Ji stood on two legs upon feet with long clawed toes. Two arms also ended in clawed digits. Scaled skin covered the body in a soft blue with areas of light tan. Large eyes, small ears, and mouth housing pointed teeth adorned a head that seemed oversized for the body. Where Ary and Sequi were often argumentative, Olar was quiet and unassuming. Only after hearing what others had voiced, would it offer an opinion, which typically proved insightful. Phai valued Olar's words above most.

The empty chairs belonged to Elders Vui from the Gnocque Empire, Kel of the unaligned sentient worlds, and Taer, who spoke for all worlds with non-sentient life. Issues within the absent members' territories demanded their personal attention, but as customary, they would abide by whatever those in attendance agreed. Taer's absence was puzzling, though. What matter could be so pressing when your domain contained no sentient life? Phai would query later.

Elder Phai's governance was two-fold: a realm assignment and Elder of Elders – leader of the Council, a position earned by experience, skill, and respect. Her realm charge was The Systems Commonwealth, a position she would swap with Sequi if given the opportunity. Where Sequi disliked Emperor Ztar, Phai championed him. Elder Sequi was a Commonwealth advocate and the Council's plans for that realm were not to his liking. For that reason, it was best Phai remained its overseer.

Phai raised a hand to still the multiple conversations occurring in the circle. For a moment, she gazed at the slender appendage before her that momentarily blocked out the face of Ary. She'd chosen her sheath with great care. Zchezuans were an elegant-looking race, but within that elegance, great physical power was contained. As strong as the tough Turzents were, in hand-to-hand combat, a Turzent would be decidedly outmatched against a Zchezuan. Her form was the same height as Sequi, but that is where the resemblance ended. She was light to his dark. White, softly iridescent skin covered a lithe form of two legs and two arms attached to a lean torso, head perched atop a graceful neck. The hands had seven long digits that could close into a fist capable of smashing through many common materials. Translucent hair that, in the traditional style of the species, fell to her knees like a shimmering white cape reflecting ever-changing shades of blue. Her face could have sculpted by the greatest of artists. As was the case with many races in the Trient, she had two eyes, a nose, and mouth. Phai's vision was exceptional compared to most species and the crystalline-blue orbs missed little. Yes, Elder Phai often thought, she had chosen well.

"Fellow Elders, let us begin," Phai announced. "You have received the report concerning recent events surrounding Archangel and the Eshaaru female, Ettwanae. Our plans have been adjusted to incorporate the change in status of the male. I believe this new direction to be advantageous."

"Yet we still have no _proof_ that Archangel is Eshaaru. I find that extremely disappointing," Elder Ary jumped in. He was declaring the concern yet again, just as he had done at any mention of the winged male since Ymoz.

"Technically true, yet what Den-neer observed and recorded on Earth held all the hallmarks of First Meeting of Soulbounds." Elder Phai pointed out. "That alone should be proof enough. Most data supports that he is Eshaaru. We should proceed as if he is unless evidence is found to the contrary."

"I have said it many times before, but I will speak it again. I want undeniable _proof_. This is too important a matter to make decisions based on less. You know as well as I the data from Ymoz was inconclusive. Comparative genetic analyses were conflicting. The data from Fjai…also inconclusive. Something is not as it seems with Archangel."

"If we held the technology of the ancients, perhaps we could obtain your proof, Elder, but that knowledge is not in our possession." Phai's face took on an impatient expression. "Your theory that he is of mixed blood goes against Eshaaru genetic design. They reproduce only with their kind."

Ary sighed in exasperation. "And how many generations ago were they created? Can you tell us with absolute certainty that the genetic programming has not degraded as to allow cross-breeding? I cannot. And Earth's exceptional mutant population carries with it genetic abilities and characteristics that surprise even us. Who is to say that an Eshaaru male did not mate with a Human female? That could explain the puzzling analyses. As we know all too well, a dying race will go to extreme measures to ensure its continuation."

"We've been down this path several times, Elder. I do not wish to discuss the issue today. It is not why we've gathered."

"Why not? Because the more we learn, the more it becomes possible I am right?" Ary's pincher clicked several times, which always annoyed Phai.

"No, because what you propose is conjecture and based on circumstantial evidence. Every argument you've made has been countered by scientific fact. There is no undeniable evidence that Eshaaru DNA has further degraded."

"Just as there is no undeniable evidence that Archangel is Eshaaru, only circumstantial!" The man took a deep breath and then appeared to calm himself. "I will acquiesce for the moment, Elder Phai, for the sake of why we are here." The Cquax resettled in his chair and stared hard at Phai. "However, regardless of our differing opinions on his heritage, Archangel should be recaptured for Project One. Even if we accept he is pure Eshaaru, we know he carries a secondary pattern. He and the female cannot consummate a relationship. We gain nothing from them remaining together."

"Ary makes a valid point, Elder Phai," Sequi injected, resting back in his chair with confident air. "If they cannot soulbind, they cannot activate the amulet."

"Then kill Ztar. That will break the bond." Phai suggested boldly.

The Council of Elders vocalized their stunned disbelief and the rooms scattered across the Trient filled with chaotic sound for several moments.

"Ludicrous!" The sharp retort came from Sequi. "Would you risk all we've accomplished toward unity?"

That surprised Phai. She half-expected Sequi to welcome the suggestion, which she made for shock value. Phai looked around at holo images. "I merely point out the most obvious solution to that specific problem; I do not suggest it is a reasonable action."

Sounds of relief filled the circle.

"I agree with Elder Ary. Archangel should be retaken as originally planned." Sequi's agreement was expected. He was a staunch supporter of Project One and those tasked with executing the directive. "We can accomplish both goals – perhaps finally confirm whether he is Eshaaru _and_ acquire the technology he hosts. The bionites could expedite Project One. What that technology is capable of may resolve obstacles the scientists have been unable to overcome." Sequi's deep timbre was firm.

Phai leaned forward. "True, Elder Sequi, but now it is you who looks too narrowly at the situation. Without an Eshaaru with a fully functioning amulet, Project One is irrelevant. We have an Eshaaru and she has an amulet, but it is incomplete. Need I mention that the loss of the memory nodes happened within your jurisdiction?" Elder Phai reminded, but not harshly. "We need her to acquire the nodes."

Sequi visibly bristled. "The nodes were as secure as our technology permitted. The enemy is powerful, Elder. Nothing is truly safe, yet you wanted me to ensure the female could gain access. It was a calculated risk we all accepted. I will not shoulder the blame for their loss alone."

Phai bowed her head in acceptance of the rebuttal. "You are correct. We all agreed to the vulnerability. She was united with one of the nodes, thanks to Den-neer." Phai couldn't resist giving her favored one credit. If not for his presence, they would have lost all three nodes and likely the Eshaaru as well that day. "But now she must locate the remaining two and complete the amulet. Archangel could be of immense assistance in that endeavor. His background is perfectly tailored to the task."

Olar gestured desire to speak, having silently observed while the others debated. "Elder Phai speaks logically. Project One gains us nothing without the success of Omnipotent. Let us not forget the hierarchy of necessary events. The female must complete her amulet – Archangel can assist with that essential first task, as well as _potentially_ soulbind with her, the next vital step. Ztar can always be sacrificed in the end to remove Ura rejection and fully activate the amulet." A clawed hand shot up to quiet the anticipated objections to the last suggestion. The others held their tongues. "Archangel now serves two roles, and we must allow his first purpose to be fulfilled before the second is attempted again. It is possible the scientists will succeed without the technology Archangel possesses. They have made great strides this past year."

"They have, and perhaps an agreeable compromise is to hold Archangel in reserve," the Turzent offered. "However, your argument of the importance of the female raises other concerns." Sequi stood, straightened his powerful form to its full stature, and paced the inside of their circle slowly; his holographic image moving past the Elders. "Every day the female remains free, we risk losing her. Let us not forget our enemy. I urge, as I always have, that we temporarily secure the female. We can recover the nodes via our own resources and then release her with the completed amulet when the time is right. We must protect the keys we already possess."

"We have the mother," Olar pointed out.

Sequi whirled toward the speaker. "Who lies near death in stasis!" The deep voice rumbled through several locales. "I do not place as much faith in our ability to revive and sustain her as you. T'Azrued proved our deficiencies. And even if we avert the mother's death, do not forget the disaster with P'Tiaera."

"I doubt any of us have forgotten, Sequi," Kel spoke in gentle tones as her holographic likeness materialized. "That unfortunate incident actually makes the case for the female remaining free. Ettwanae must perform of her own choosing to avoid a repeat. If she believes her actions are of free will, the barrier is removed."

"Thank you for joining us, Elder Kel," Phai greeted with some relief. Kel was a supporter. "You reviewed our discussion preceding your arrival?"

Kel gestured affirmative with a flick of a forward antenna. She represented unaligned, sentient-inhabited worlds within the Trient and Phai labeled her as the peacemaker amongst their group. Elder Kel's persona as a member of the Yat wasn't in keeping with her soft-spoken, measured demeanor in Phai's opinion. The race was a jittering lot, high strung and given to hyperactivity, and their form seemed quite appropriate for their racial personality. Four delicate, quick-moving legs balanced a long, slender body that stood at 45-degree angle. A triangular head with large eyes and two constantly sensing antennae attached to the body via a long, thin neck fully one-third the length of the torso. About midway up the neck, two multi-jointed arms extended that ended in four extremely dexterous, six-jointed fingers. A rusty-red exoskeleton allowed the Yat to hide quite effectively on their red-tinged world.

The species intrigued Phai. Yats were a tri-gender species – one producing the sperm and one the eggs, both of which were injected into the third mating partner, an incubator gender. The incubator secreted a hormone that enabled sperm to enter the eggs for fertilization. The eggs were held within the incubator's body until laid just prior to hatching.

"I apologize for the delay, Elders. I understand the concerns expressed before my arrival as they are valid, but I must agree with Elder Olar. We have a fallback position. Olar's hypothesis on how to awaken the mother without losing her is solid. We must use the tool that is the free female. It is with her that much hope rests, and the chances of successfully completing the amulet greatly improve with Archangel at her side. Phai speaks wisely when saying he brings skills to the task that Ettwanae and her companions lack – skills that may make the difference between life and death."

Sequi remained standing and turned to face the newest attendee, defiance clearly evident in his stance, but Phai knew he understood the tide had turned in her favor with Kel's arrival. "All you say may be true, but I fear the risk is too great in allowing the female to be so vulnerable. We must assume the Eilu also realize her significance. Much hope _does_ rest with her, and I remain firm in my belief it is far wiser to secure her and risk expendables to recover the stolen nodes."

The Yat settled back on her rear haunches as her anatomy did not accommodate chairs comfortably. "Elder Sequi, my other fellows, there are times when our chosen tools must be allowed to play out their roles as _they_ perceive them to be. To interfere too much breeds doubt in their minds that they act of their own volition. We exist behind the veil of perceived self-determination. The incident with P'Tiaera reminded us of the necessity of that veil. Ettwanae, Archangel, Ztar…all of our unwitting tools must not doubt that they act of free will. Their Ura cannot be conflicted in that regard. If even one comes to believe otherwise, we jeopardize everything."

Murmurs of agreement spread throughout the room. Phai breathed easier. Kel rarely failed to understand the essence of a matter and speak her position eloquently. Phai led the Council and rightfully so, but Kel was their compass.

Sequi returned to his chair with a slight scowl, but did not press the issue further. Arguing his position had gained him nothing in the past and would not meet with success this round either.

"Thank you, Elder Kel. Your wisdom guides us," Phai expressed in gratitude with a nod toward her ally.

"I do not argue Elder Kel's transcendent summation; however, we face practical challenges. The chances of the female obtaining the two remaining nodes even with the male at her side are extremely low. Even we are uncertain of their location," Ayr opinioned with a snap of his pincer. "She must be in close proximity for the amulet or her Eshaar'ne to detect their presence, assuming they _are_ detectable where held. Do we have sufficient intel to send them in a possible direction?"

"The Jandur curator performed well and he has sent the pair to Tchutchka Centrus. Our agents have gathered enough data to correlate a likely location and have provided that to Tider."

Ayr raised his four multi-jointed arms in dismay. Phai knew he had strong reservations about Tider's increasingly vital role. "Who will likely demand an extremely high payment for disclosing such valuable information. What does the female have to offer in exchange?" Ayr questioned. "If she cannot make payment, then we've given up that location with little gain." The pincher clicked communicating his concern. "I do not trust Tider. He knows too much."

"But not enough. He is a valuable tool and shall remain in service until that changes." Phai stood, her holographic image stepping toward the center of their circle with the elegance and ease of one meant to lead. "Tider is the right choice, she can learn much from him. But if we must, we will ensure she learns the necessary information through another source. With respect, Elder Ayr, you are wrong in that she has nothing to offer in barter. She possesses one thing Tider will pay a huge sum to acquire." She waited the appropriate amount of time for the others to speculate in their own minds. She smiled inwardly in anticipation of the reaction. "Proof the Eshaaru live."

Sequi jumped out of his seat. "You _cannot_ be seriously suggesting she reveal herself to him! What purpose would that serve?"

A medley of voices rang through the room a second time. Phai raised her hands for quiet. "He and his ilk have sought proof for decades. She can provide what he seeks. He will pay dearly for that. More than enough to purchase the suspected location of the Zramynian nodes. All she need do is activate the memory node in her possession and he will reveal a great deal in return."

Olar hissed a signal for caution. "Elder Phai, are we truly ready for that knowledge to be released? The ramifications – the risks – may be great."

Phai looked at the Council, one at a time. "Tider will guard the knowing fiercely – it is his nature. It will be his highest priced prize that few can afford. I do not believe the risks are as great as you may first believe."

It was Ayr's turn to stand; anger clear in the raised pincer. "His price our enemy can well afford! That is the ultimate risk – that she is revealed to them."

Phai raised her own hands in disbelief. "Are you so naïve as to think they don't know of her?" Phai challenged, inserting dismay into her tone. Ayr's demeanor shifted instantly to less defiance. Phai had struck a nerve.

"We have no evidence they do." Ayr edged back toward his seat.

"Direct evidence, no. Circumstantial, yes." Phai walked closer to the argumentative Elder. "We know their operative encountered her during the node theft. Surveillance data strongly suggested he witnessed the union of node and amulet. And if he did not, we must assume that others watching detected the node's recognition burst, just as we did."

"All conjecture and supposition," Ayr countered with a wave of the pincer arm and a quick glance to each in the circle. "Will we risk her based on what we _think_ they know?"

"Ayr, I agree with Phai on this point," Sequi proclaimed, somewhat surprising Phai. "We must presume they know of her. It is a reasonable assumption."

Olar gestured agreement with a cock of a blue hand. "Elders, Phai speaks with logic. Our enemy knows of the female – allowing Tider to know she is Eshaaru gains her a probable location for the two nodes. We risk little; Tider's psychic blocks cannot be breached and he _will_ withhold that knowledge, except for the highest of price and as a _one-time_ sale. We can simply buy back the knowledge. This may be a reasonable path for the Eshaaru to follow. Yet how do we know she will pay the price and not simply leave?"

Phai smiled confidently as Ayr sat, indicating he was backing down. One left to persuade. "Den-neer is already enroute. He will ensure all goes as planned."

Sequi shook his head in an exaggerated manner. "No, _no_! There is too much risk of losing the Eshaaru. We are literally sending her into the lair of the enemy. I cannot agree to this!"

"She need not go alone."

"Archangel?" Sequi dismissed the idea with a sweep of his muscular arm. "He is as vulnerable to capture as she, Elder Phai."

"We have other tools at our disposal, Sequi."

"Your precious Den-neer? He is powerful, but against-"

"Ztar." Phai cut him off, something rarely done by one Elder to another.

Glances between Elders communicated their surprise, but it was yet again Sequi who spoke.

"_Ztar_?" Sequi eyed Phai. "What are you planning, Elder?"

"Actually, I'm referring more specifically to one of his generals – Gtar-Cro."

Phai returned to her seat. "Fellow Elders, let me share with you my full plan."

With that, Phai outlined her strategy that would move them another step closer to realization of Omnipotent. She countered the remaining objections over resultant revelations, what Emperor Ztar and his minions might do with the newfound knowledge, ramifications long and short term to the overall goal, and concerns that even the combined might of a Turzent military vessel and two Eshaar'ne may not ensure the Eshaarus' survival if things went badly. Phai admitted the risk was enormous, but so was the gain – beyond simply uniting the Eshaaru with the nodes. As was usually the case, the dividing line put Olar and Kel on Phai's side while Sequi and Ayr opposed. In the end, however, even Elder Sequi grudgingly admitted the benefits might justify the great risk.

Ayr attempted one final plea to abandon the plan. "This is reckless beyond reason, Phai. There is only one outcome I can see – death of the Eshaaru."

Elder Phai stood in the circle of her fellows with self-assurance, allowing her regal form to reinforce her words. "Do not underestimate the Eshaaru as a pair. This must happen, Elders. The time has come for Eshaaru to face Eilu, as it is time for our chosen Unifier to become aware of the existence of both. The benefits are multifold. The confrontation will achieve both an obvious objective – to complete the amulet – and more subtle effects that may not be realized for some time." She walked slowly within the ring making sure her carriage reflected determination and confidence. All that remained was to solidify her position. "There have been many pivotal events when we risked much to ensure advancement of the overall stratagem. This is such as event. If we are unwilling to take the necessary risks, then our enemy has already won. I ask that you accept my proposal with that understanding."

As the images winked out one by one several minutes later, Phai breathed in relief. Her plan was approved, even by Sequi – begrudgingly and with stern warnings that if the pair succumbed, years of planning and work would be forfeited. Ayr was the lone dissenting voice. Phai remained firm in her belief the confrontation had to occur. Even so, she couldn't deny the twinges of apprehension as she issued the final directives that would set her plan into motion.

###

Ettwanae couldn't breathe. Her head was whirling. She had to leave the room. Once in the short corridor, she leaned against the wall, hoping the dizziness would pass. Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm her racing heart and mind.

'Mother was alive two years after she left me! Two _years_!' All the times, she'd told herself her mother was killed or captured shortly after she was left with Bhenra. Easier to believe that than to wonder why T'Qilla never returned for her. But now…

Warren emerged from the galley, obviously looking for her. "Are you okay?"

She wasn't. Too many emotions where colliding. Too many old wounds reopened. Ettwanae didn't want to talk until she had more time to process the news, so she said nothing. He approached. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. She wanted his arms around her, yet that physical closeness would be too uncomfortable for both of them. Ettwanae moved away from the wall. "I'm going to go to my room," she told him, but Warren spoke again and she hesitated.

"Hearing your mother's name must be difficult." She nodded. "Do you want to talk?"

The look of concern on his face pulled at her to share what she was feeling, but she shook her head. "No," she half-lied quietly.

Warren took another step closer. She met his gaze, blinking back the tears forming. That was all it took for him to swiftly close the gap and wrap her in his arms. Warmth enveloped her just as quickly. In his arms. Safe. Protected.

"She was alive two years after she left me." The words escaped without consent. Behind that single statement were all her unspoken hurts and unanswered questions.

His embraced tightened. "She would have come for you if she could…if it had been safe."

Ettwanae latched onto the words desperately. She would have come if… Ettwanae chose to believe. It was the only explanation her heart would accept. Sobs pounded her chest to be released, but she wouldn't let them out. 'Mother was unable to come for me. Too dangerous.' 'Mother, are you still alive? Still out there somewhere?' Her heart called out, and she buried her face deep into Warren's shoulder. 'Goddess, please let her be,' she prayed.

Suddenly, she knew what she needed to do and pulled out of his arms. "I want to go back to the museum," she said firmly. "I must talk with Tribo'lu about mother."

Instant concern crossed Warren's features. "That…may not be wise. We are not his favorite people right now."

She waved a hand to dismiss the objection. "I don't care. He knew my mother and I must talk to him." She'd face whatever danger Warren was imagining to learn even the tiniest morsel about T'Qilla.

He was quiet far too long, searching her face. She was ready to break the silence, when he spoke.

"Ettwanae, let's give Tribo'lu a while to get over his anger. He has Etagllot connections. For all we know, they are still watching him. If we go back, we risk a confrontation with them."

"I don't care! I'll go back by myself," she proclaimed in defiance, crossing her arms.

/ _My Poda, Warren speaks with wisdom. The danger is real. We can return another time._ /

Warren put a hand on her arm. "Let's review Tider's files first, see how much is revealed there. Perhaps he documented all he knows-"

"You don't _understand_!" she accused sharply, shrugging off the touch. "He knew my mother. I want to _talk_ about her, not read some old files. I have plenty of files. Tribo'lu _knew_ her, _spoke_ with her. She-" Ettwanae swallowed to untighten her throat, "she even gave him her- her real n-name." Her voice was beginning to betray her and tears were coming. Goddess, how she hated it when emotions overwhelmed her just when she wanted to be strong.

/ _Ettwanae, we cannot go back to the museum. We must wait for another time._ /

/ _You don't understand either!_ / she snapped mentally.

Warren tried to lock their eyes, but she looked away. "I _do_ understand why you want to talk with Tribo'lu. Any scrap of information you learn about your parents is precious. It's just too risky right now. We'll come back when things have died down."

She darted her eyes then to his. "But he may leave – we may never see him again. Anything could happen. The Etagllot could kill him!"

"Tribo'lu hasn't survived this long on dumb luck. I think he is far more resourceful than he wanted us to believe. Perhaps after we visit Tider, if you still want to come back, we can."

Warren was giving her such a tender look that despite being upset, her stomach fluttered. She allowed him to rest a hand on her shoulder.

"I cannot imagine all you've been through since your mother left you with a stranger or how that feels, but I know the hurt goes deep. If she or your people can be found, we'll find a way. But to do that, you must remain free."

He and Volu were right; she knew that intellectually, but her heart said to fly back to the museum. 'Don't be foolish,' she told herself sternly. 'It could put everyone in danger.' Blinking back tears, she eased toward Warren. She needed to be held; needed his strength. Suddenly, she found herself against his chest – whether she moved to him or he pulled her close, she didn't know. What mattered were the strong arms encircling her.

"I don't want to be the only one left." The words came of their own accord, and she trembled. "I don't want to h-hide anymore. I don't want to- to be a-alone and always scared," she confessed into his chest. She tightened her grip around him, clutching the back of his shirt in fists clenched tight against the pain. "I need my people…my family. I want…" She paused, trying to find words for the longing. "I want to _belong_ somewhere." And she needed Warren, but those words remained unspoken.

Warren stroked her hair and rubbed the space between her wings, comforting her the same way Bhenra often had. She wanted to stay right where she was and forget the hurt, forget the people that hunted her, forget the loneliness of being separated from her people – of perhaps being the last of her kind. Yet in Warren's arms, it all felt a bit more tolerable. Someone else could be strong. She could lean on him; share the troubles. Warmth and longing spread through her. Her groin began the familiar throbbing. 'Time to let go.' She moaned gently and pulled away, wiping at the tears.

"Sorry," she whispered, not wanting to look at his face as she escaped to her room. There she curled up on her bed and let the sobs come. Not only for the love of a mother lost, but also for the one she couldn't have she left standing in the hall.

###

_A/N: There you have it – the chapter than gave me so much concern; the first half that this. I still have doubts about its timing, and we likely won't know if it was too soon of a reveal until down the road. _

_Next chapter preview: Warren attempts to gain information from Gatebi, and perhaps more if I decide to combine two or three segments into a single chapter._


	23. Chapter 22

_A/N: The seven-day trip to Jandur passes without incident, but we should drop in on our crew to see what's up. I'm pretty happy with how this chapter flows and the interactions and hope you agree. It's a little light-heartedness and a little serious business sort of interlude before we get to Tchutchka Centrus and Tider. _

**Chapter 22**

It was evening within Volu and Warren was hungry. Again. Or still. He was beginning to worry eating was becoming a way to deal with boredom. 'Even your high-speed metabolism may not be able to burn off all the calories if you keep this up, Worthington,' he chastised himself. 'Then we'll see how agile you are in the sky!' But the self-recrimination didn't divert him from his path. A zante and cup of Joe had his name on it. After a stop in the galley, he strode the few paces to the gathering room to relax with his feet up to indulge.

Jandur was far astern. Before leaving the planet, though, Volu had taken them to a remote location where he had gotten some much needed flight time, and it was a huge physical and mental relief, but Ettwanae had declined to join him. She was still reeling from learning her mother was alive two years after leaving her with Bhenra. He tried to convince her flying might help emotionally, but she remained within her chambers. Apparently, Ettwanae didn't benefit from riding the winds in the same way he did and Warren chalked that up as another difference between him and the Eshaaru.

Volu was speeding to Tchutchka Centrus; seven standard days travel from Jandur at her top velocity. Without many distractions, it was proving to be another monotonous trip. They really needed to do something about the lack of entertainment, he concluded. The inactivity could become mind numbing if that didn't change. Little wonder Flint was fixated on the computer games he played for sometimes hours a day, often with Volu as the opponent. The Eshaar'ne apparently didn't complain, though, which mildly surprised Warren. Perhaps she needed a distraction from the tedium of space travel as well. Another tension was building within Warren – his dislike of enclosed spaces. That in itself could undo him before anything else, and it'd been only 16 days since leaving Earth.

"Gatebi," he greeted upon entering the gathering room. The Alcab was in her favorite reading nook outside her chambers. The woman read – a lot. Likely her way of handling the empty days. Brown eyes shot up to meet his and for a moment, Warren detected annoyance, but then she smiled.

"Seeking more comfort than the galley?"

"Yep. This is the end of the zante and I plan to savor every bite with my coffee slowly and luxuriously," he replied with gastronomic grief. The day of last zante was a dark one. Even darker would be the day his coffee supply ran out, but that was a worry for down the road.

"Already?" Gatebi asked, surprise crossing her face. "I thought we would have enough for at least another twelve days or so.

Warren felt his face flush slightly. "Sorry – an addiction." Taking a bite, he chewed leisurely to draw out the experience.

"Mine is Aywai – a tart treat usually reserved for special celebrations. I'll partake any time, though," she offered with an expression that spoke of mouth-watering reminiscing.

He set the zante down. "Do we have any on board?"

"Regrettably, no," she sighed.

"Then maybe we should stock up next resupply."

"Unfortunately, we'd likely need to special order unless we go to Alcab. That's not possible with our…procurement methods."

"We'll figure out a way." Then a light bulb clicked on. "In fact, I have a friend who's in the food business on Sat'rey – Niat. He can get anything and have it delivered anywhere. A quick comm and Niat will take care of the rest."

"Then perhaps in the future…" she let the idea hang, apparently not putting much stock in the idea.

Warren studied the Alcab as she returned to reading. He'd met a few of her kind when he lived on Sat'rey, but only really knew one – Chef Delme. In his research on the species back then, Warren learned the temperamental chef was archetypical of his species. From an Earthling's perspective, Alcabs were humanoid with all typical features in all the usual places. Alcabs tended to be short, usually stocky, with a large-frame bone structure. A bright orange head of hair was the norm, though lighter tones were common, and usually coarse causing most Alcabs to keep it short because of its tendency to be unruly. Skin tone was brown and varied in depth of color by individual. Eyes were elongated and pupiled with the sclera usually a shade of brown ranging from tan to nearly black. Faces tended toward the roundish, noses on diminutive side, no eyebrows, and teeth smaller but greater in number than Humans, giving them a toothy smile. Their hands consisted of five digits, which tended to be short by Human standards, and the feet sported three toes that were in larger proportion to the foot than standard Human. Alcabs did not have nails on either the fingers or the toes. As an aside, he had also learned that bi-sexuality was common.

Gatebi was very typical Alcab. Her eyes were mid-tone brown as was her skin. The shock of bright orange hair was in need of a trim. As she sat draped across the lounge chair, legs over its arm, he figured by her species' standards, she was likely attractive.

'Now's as good a time as any,' Warren told himself, taking a sip of coffee. He'd held off talking with the bookish woman, heeding Flint's warning that her reasons for being taken by the Etagllot were mysterious and a sensitive topic. Warren had felt it might be helpful if they got to know each other a bit before he approached that subject. Still, he needed to know if she had abilities that may be useful or a hindrance.

So with some reservations, Warren jumped into what could be a touchy issue. "Gatebi, do you mind if I ask you what may be an uncomfortable question?"

Her eyes met his, a wary expression immediately following. "What might that be?"

"Why the Etagllot kidnapped you."

Darkness swept over her face and she visibly stiffened. "I cannot tell you – I don't know."

"Yet you were taken to a facility where they were gathering those with extra-ordinary talents. We know why Flint was there. What is your talent?" he pressed, choosing to overlook her claim of ignorance.

"I have no extra-ordinary talents, Warren, and no idea why they took me."

The tone carried with it the unspoken order to drop the subject. Warren could either press further and risk Gatebi's anger, or he could let it go. If she truly was a mutant and as yet unaware or in denial, it could potentially put them at risk if her power manifested uncontrollably at the wrong moment. Perhaps a plea to her pragmatic side would gain him some footing.

"Gatebi, I've been around people like Flint and myself most of my life. Often, our kind is unaware of the gift genetics has given us until the ability activates. Sometimes, that gift frightens the receiver to the point of denial. Yet it is nothing to fear as long as we gain control over it. Uncontrolled talent, though, can be dangerous to the possessor and those around them." She was smart; Gatebi would figure out where he was going with the thought. He watched carefully as she mulled over his words.

"Warren, you have no reason to be concerned. I have no such gift. Honestly, I do not know why the Etagllot took me other than it was a mistake."

He sighed to himself and decided to back off. "If your assessment should change, just know that I am here to talk."

She swung her legs to the floor and stood. "A snack is a good idea. I'm going to the galley to see what appeals," and she disappeared out the door. It was quite obvious hunger had nothing to do with why she left.

Warren frowned. 'Why else would the Etagllot want her? What was it about Gatebi that garnered their attention?' Grabbing up his mug, he considered options as he sipped. "Volu?" he prompted aloud.

"Yes, Warren."

"Do you know why the Etagllot wanted Gatebi?"

The Eshaar'ne hesitated. "She says she does not know."

"That's not what I asked."

"The Etagllot have an agenda, Warren, but what that is remains undisclosed."

Volu was tiptoeing around. "You're dodging the question."

"I assume they wanted her because they believed her to be of worth to their purposes." The voice held just a hint of irritation.

"Is she?" Again, the hesitation.

"Without knowing their purposes, I cannot answer that question."

'Oh, she's good!' Warren silently complimented. He washed down another bite with a swig, enjoying the flavor blend of sweet pastry and the hot, slightly bitter brew. "Volu, please. Let's stop the verbal dance. Do you or do you not know if Gatebi is an Alcab mutant?"

"And if I did know, what would you ask next?"

"What her ability is." Warren allowed the Eshaar'ne to lead him away from the initial question.

"And then?"

"If it's dangerous and whether she has control over it."

"You are concerned for your safety?"

"If she has uncontrolled ability, that could be a potential threat, so yes."

"I have seen nothing to make me fearful of Gatebi."

The conversation was getting him nowhere fast. "You're not going to tell me anything are you, Volu?"

"If Gatebi has something to tell, that is her decision, not mine."

Warren nodded. "Sorry, Volu. You're right," he realized aloud. Any disclosures should come from Gatebi, not from others against her wishes.

"Apology accepted, Warren. Now perhaps you will answer a question of mine."

He took a sip of hot beverage. One thing he loved about the Empire – their cups and glasses kept hot liquids hot and cold liquids cold. "Fire away, but I reserve the right to not answer as well."

"Understood. Why were _you_ on Hydeera?"

He smiled. Of course she'd want to know that. The Emperor and his companion in the midst of a dangerous raid? It would make no sense whatsoever. "Well, Volu, there's one thing you need to understand about our Emperor…Ztar can be pigheaded and tenacious. He is still a warrior at heart when it comes to rooting out the enemy, especially when that enemy threatens someone he cares about. Reason and logic aren't arguments he necessarily listens to under those circumstances. He wanted to be in on the raid and that was that."

"So it was Emperor Ztar's decision that you were there?"

"Actually, I finagled myself along. He was adamantly against it – at least at first. Then somewhere between Sat'rey and Hydeera, he changed his mind. Me shocked by his about-face would be an understatement."

"And so you and the Emperor joined one of the assault teams?"

"Yes."

"I cannot see how the risk could be justified."

"You, me, Generals Gtar-Cro and Rehsaw, and many others would agree with you. But that's Ztar." Warren smiled at memories of how obstinate the man could be at times.

"Can I assume when you say the Etagllot threatened someone he cares about, you are referring to yourself?"

"That would be correct." He grabbed the last bit of zante and popped it in his mouth.

"How were you threatened?"

"They kidnapped me and Ztar to get the nannites," he managed to get out around chewing.

At that precise moment, Ettwanae walked through the door, eyes wide. "_Kidnapped_? Who kidnapped you and the Emperor?"

"Warren was telling me why he was on Hydeera. It seems the Emperor insisted on participating in that operation and Warren persuaded Ztar to allow him to go along. That is the only reason you saw him that day, Ettwanae."

Ettwanae daringly plunked herself down next to Warren and leaned into him. "Meant to be," she said giving him a coy smile. It was nice to see a twinkle in her eyes after several days of being down in the dumps. "You had a zante. I can smell it. You know I hate you for that addiction. I'm getting one – be back." She jumped off the lounger and headed toward the door. "Then you'll tell me about the kidnapping."

Warren felt a blush of guilt. "Ettwanae, the zante are all gone. Sorry."

She whirled around, her right wing nearly knocking a Sat'rey urn off the side table. "Gone? We should have had enough for another two weeks!" she pointed out, putting hands on her hips. "How you could have eaten them all?" she accused with narrowing eyes.

He apologized again sheepishly. "Are zante more important than knowing who kidnapped me?" he attempted to redirect with feigned hurt.

"_Who_ kidnapped Warren?" Flint demanded as he charged in, sliding past Ettwanae who was partially blocking the door.

The small ship offered little privacy and he was learning no one aboard was hard of hearing. Warren noticed the teen didn't attempt to miss the wing guaranteeing it brushed tightly against his bare arm as he smirked. 'Teens!' Warren shook his head as Ettwanae snapped her wings close but otherwise ignored the touch.

"Forget about the kidnapping. Warren ate the rest of the zante. He gets me addicted and then eats them all."

The accusation flew, but Warren detected mirth beneath. 'She's enjoying this,' Warren thought. He sat back and took the ribbing. "It's not like they weren't here before I came on the scene."

"They were, but I didn't really care for them all that much. But with your coffee – it's the perfect combination. Now they're gone because someone apparently can't control _his_ addiction."

Now she had his rapt attention. 'That explains the missing coffee!'

"Yeah, War. What's with that? You'd think you was alone on this boat. No consideration, that's what I say, right Twae?"

"What's this about _my_ coffee?" he glared at Ettwanae with mock ire, ignoring Flint.

"Flint, for all that is the goddess, my name is Ettwanae." Flint rolled his eyes. "But you are right about the zante. Very inconsideration," she said stepping close to Warren, leaning down, and spreading her wings in a show of pretend irritation. "What do you have to say for yourself, Warren Worthington Number Three."

"It's Warren Worthington the Third," he chuckled, noting she had completely ignored the coffee accusation. "I profusely apologize and am utterly ashamed," he offered putting on an abashed face.

"As you should be!" she huffed. The frown of disapproval on her perfect features made him grin widely and his gut quiver. "Yet, I'm a forgiving person. Sharing your coffee is fair compensation."

Almost without being aware of what he was doing, Warren reached out and pulled off her feet and right into his lap. He clamped his mouth on hers for a power kiss, then returned her to her feet just as quickly. The flustered look on her face was so-o-o worth it. "That's my apology, in case you missed the point."

Flint was laughing hysterically and Warren was pleased with himself – it felt good to be playful despite the risks inherent in the shenanigans. To his great surprise, libido remained quiet. Ettwanae straightened her clothing and collected herself almost prime and properly, much to Warren's amusement.

"Okay then. Apology accepted." Then she sat down on one of the other seats. "Now tell us who kidnapped you."

Flint got settled, ready to hear of adventure.

Gatebi strolled in. "Volu says it's story time. May I join you?" she asked, perching herself across from Flint.

Warren smirked at the scene. "Are we all here now?" he asked rhetorically as he reminded himself to make a slight adjustment to the story and edit out the nannites. He'd allow everyone to believe the Etagllot wanted him and Ztar as mutants.

"That's obvious, War. Get to the story. Who nabbed you and Ztar Almighty and how'd ya escape?"

He settled back, downed the last swig of coffee, and began. "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…"

"Hey! Star Wars." Flint jumped in. Gatebi and Ettwanae exchanged puzzled looks.

"The children must be quiet or no bedtime story!" Warren teased and was rewarded with giggles and groans. He proceeded to weave the tale in all its action-packed glory for his spellbound audience.

###

The feathered head crest of the man seated in front of him rose slightly; a sign Den-neer recognized as piqued curiosity. "These visitors, they are of considerable means? Many of my wares are of great worth."

"Your alternate currency is information. They can pay you with something other than imperial credits."

Tider eased back from his ornately carved desk made of a rare wood-like material from Trapia. The artisan had endowed the medium with many icons associated with Raisilian fertility gods, most evident being the basic form of the desk as an inverted triangle. When Tider saw and understood the embedded message and symbolisms, he had to have it. The unique piece of functional art cost him a small fortune. "Information comes in two forms. That which can be sold and that which cannot. Which do they offer?"

Den-neer moved his hand caressingly across the edge of the desk as if admiring the sensual artistry. Tider was no fool. "That is for others to determine. I am but a simple messenger."

Tider tilted his head in mild amusement. "Den-neer, you are as far from a simple messenger as I am from a street vendor. If you say the knowledge has great value, I do not doubt – you have not yet deceived me."

The "not yet" wasn't lost on Den-neer, but he accepted it for what it was – Tider distrusted everyone but himself, and even his self trust only went so far. "And I speak truthfully now. You will do well to not allow them to leave without a transaction, preferably the specific transaction they seek."

Tider regarded Den-neer with a contemplative gaze, absentmindedly twirling a PI chip with a taloned finger. "If I were a daring man, I'd ask for whom you carry messages, but since misdirected curiosity in my business can mean an abbreviated existence, I resign myself to wondering only."

Den-neer smiled. While he could not read the Ptakan's mind, he knew much about Tider's knowledge of those involved in their very serious game hide-and-seek. If Den-neer had to guess, it would be that Tider believed him Etagllot. Logical. Yet Tider had but bits and pieces, not quite enough to form the full picture. And so it would remain. Those Den-neer reported to would see to that. Tider was just another tool in a competition of many levels, pieces, and players. He himself was but a pawn and from which much was withheld, but he understood that. Acceptance of the limits of his role gave him an advantage. Tider on the other hand…

For this move, Tider's assistance was required and Den-neer would play the game skillfully to ensure the Ptakan made all the right moves. "Life is rife with mysteries; most will never be solved by those as lowly as we."

Tider expressed agreement with a click of his tongue. "So true, but the mystery solvers need those like us who excel at gathering clues."

"And excel at charging inordinate finder's fees!"

At that, Tider laughed heartily. "Everyone is entitled to earn a living." Then his face turned serious. "These visitors, they are expected soon?"

"I am less than one day ahead."

"And how will I know them?"

"They will ask you for the location of the missing Zramynian System memory nodes."

Tider's eyes widened and his crown raised high. "The Jandur nodes? That theft shocked everyone! My comlink chimed for weeks. Who? How? General consensus was The Dark Ones. Who else could have the ability to snatch such a prize from the Etagllot? If that's what your visitors seek, I can offer little but rumor and speculation. I have no idea where they were taken."

Den-neer held Tider's stare until the man blinked and looked away. "Do not play me for the fool," he said with such coldness that the Ptakan visibly shuddered. Tider had experienced once before the pain Den-neer could inflict. Once was usually enough to ensure future cooperation.

"Well, I- I may have heard something…" Stone-cold silence filled the room as Tider obviously struggled with admission. Den-neer's stare did not waiver. Tider's crest flicked several times, a sign of intense nervous. "Very well," the confession came with a chattering sound, the equivalent of an exasperated sigh in some other species. "I do have information, but no way of verifying its accuracy. My source is reliable, but I cannot vouch for _her_ source. It is hypothesis."

Den-neer dipped his head once in acceptance. Elder Phai told him a possible location was leaked to Tider through another operative. Den-neer's orders were to insure Tider passed along that intel to one individual and one individual only. Why his superiors didn't go after the nodes themselves, he did not question – it was not his place. They wished the Eshaar'ne acquire the prize herself was all he needed to know.

"Information of that nature is singular and thereby not available for repetitive distribution, am I correct, Tider?" Den-neer didn't wait for a response. "I am not an experienced purveyor such as you, but in my small opinion it seems logical that once that unique information is sold, it can no longer reside in your inventory." Den-neer removed all expression from his face and waited, confident that the broker understood the implications.

To Tider's credit, he took the innuendo without flinching. "It is rare that I come into possession of such a commodity, but yes, you are correct that this particular item fits into that category."

Den-neer smiled all too pleasantly. "Then we have a shared understanding of the situation."

The Ptakan leaned toward Den-neer. "We do. As long as the visitors make appropriate payment, they will acquire what they seek. As you say, the article is unique, and the price reflects of its value."

Den-neer could have inferred dire consequences if the broker failed to give up the information regardless of the buyer's ability to pay, but that's not how his superiors managed Tider. They wished him to operate independently. Others may discover the identity of marionette's puppeteer and cut the strings. The fewer strings, the less chance of detection. No, they'd allow Tider to sell the intel and that meant the visitors had to pay the hefty price.

"These buyers are unique themselves, Tider. You may not see that at first, but scan the male and take him at face value. The female is not as she appears. The male and female are a pairing." Tider was transfixed on Den-neer and it was obvious the broker understood something important was being revealed. Den-neer moved his body into a subtly threatening posture. "Uniqueness is a valuable quality in your business, but I believe you understand that certain commodities are previously spoken for and not available for acquisition and resale." Tider's expression had gone from intrigued to guarded, but he said nothing. The powerful telepath so wished he could peek inside trader's mind, but the block was impenetrable. However, he was confident Tider understood that the visitors were not be to taken as saleable commodities. "And now I must be going. Expect the buyers within a standard day."

As Den-neer stood, he had one more suggestion for the Ptakan. "They are new to the game. Lessons may be required, _particularly_ lessons that aid their longevity."

Tider was taken aback. "Novices? I'm to sell a commodity of that value to _novices_?"

"They can pay the price. That is all that should concern you."

Tider grumbled under his breath. "Lessons are extra." Then he looked down at his PI as it chimed notice of an urgent comm. When he looked up, Den-neer was gone.

###

The following morning, Warren remembered it was time to check in with Charles as he promised his old friend. Volu voiced continued concerns over tapping into the interstellar comlink and fully activating the PI. It took a little persuasion, but she finally agreed Warren could use his PI for a short conversation. Prepared to leave a message, it was pleasantly surprised when Charles answered.

"Warren! I've been anticipating your call for a couple days. Is all well?"

"It is. Hope you weren't worrying too much. Is this a bad time?"

The elder man shook his head. "Not at all. I was just reading an interesting scientific report on some anomalous readings detected from the center of our galaxy. The data from the supermassive black hole located there has scientists scratching their heads. Naturally, the time difference between when the activity occurred and when we detected it here on Earth is great, about 25,000 years, so this is very old news. But enough of that. Have you made progress in your search?"

"Some. The trip to Jandur was worthwhile. Apparently, there is a sort of game afoot in the search for Etxan'Ir, and the playing field is quite full. We're heading to a planet called Tchutchka Centrus for a visit to a man who supposedly is _the_ source of information associated with the great library. We arrive tomorrow."

Charles leaned toward the comlink screen and Warren saw curiosity in the face. "Can you share with me what you've learned?"

Over the next few minutes, Warren brought his former mentor up to date. All too quickly, it was time to end the comm. After the PI screen went black, Warren leaned against the wall that served as a headboard for his bed. Pangs of homesickness swept through him. He was beginning to miss everyone. Miss his life. Miss Earth and her skies. All familiar feelings – too familiar. Painfully familiar.

Memories and emotions of being ripped from Earth by Ztar all those years ago welled up. Not once, but twice he was snatched away from his life and home by the alien ruler. The second time around, though, wasn't nearly as traumatic. He'd known it could happen and had prepared for it as best he could, while praying it would not.

Once again, he was far from the only world that was home, but this time of his own choosing. That would not change the missing, and it was the price to be paid for a chance to free himself of the nannites. He fervently hoped Etxan'Ir lived up to its reputation and held the knowledge to cleanse him. 'And if it doesn't? Or if you can't find the library? Then what?' The questions taunted. 'At least you could say you tried – exhausted all possibilities,' he answered. 'But a consolation prize was perhaps in the offing. If I fail on one count, perhaps I can succeed on another. A long shot, true, but perhaps Warren Worthington can get the girl of his dreams.'

He allowed himself to anticipate that possibility with a smile.

###

_A/N: I have to say a little something here about the lack of reviews. Aside from faithful Xrystofer, I've heard little. The visitor stats tell me I have plenty of readers, so I'm puzzled as to why no one else is posting. Not begging for praise or ego-boosting messages, but a little moral support would be nice. If you're one of my silent readers, please consider just letting me know you're out there, if nothing else. _

_And if you care to review this particular chapter, I'm intensely interested in your thoughts about Den-neer. I find myself growing fonder of this antagonist the more I write him and wonder how readers are finding character. _

_Chapter 23 preview: The big meeting with Tider. What do Warren and Ettwanae learn? Where does Tider send them? What dangers will they face?_


	24. Chapter 23

_A/N: A much longer chapter than we've had of late. This is an involved scene and felt it deserved in-depth treatment. So without further ado…_

**Chapter 23**

Warren squirmed in the harness, a despised contraption rarely donned the past several years. His wings argued against the pain of confinement, as they had done on Jandur. With Shozen, the Etagllot, and a telepath-possible-telekinetic on the hunt for them, it would be foolhardy to allow himself to be easily identified. Tider was a knowledge broker. Information a winged man visited would be a valuable commodity all too salable to those interested in buying. It was probably wishful thinking that the broker did not employ body scanners, Warren told himself, but no sense making it easy.

Ettwanae's Sat'reyan disguise was perfection. The quality of her cloak made the image inducer technology the X-men used look primitive. Their device merely fooled the eyes with a hologram. Hers fooled sophisticated scanners, touch, maybe even hearing since he detected no rustling of feathers as she moved. He placed his hand near her back, knowing he was brushing wings, yet felt only an oddness. He could not come up with a word for the sensation of feeling not quite nothing. Yet despite his neutralized sense of touch, Aru knew they were in physical contact and desire woke. He pulled his hand back as if from a hot flame.

Ettwanae shivered and smiled at him. "Amazing technology, isn't it?"

"Astonishing, actually. It works on all species?"

"All I've encountered so far."

Volu was cloaked and hunkered down outside the city in what passed as a ravine on the planet. Tchutchka Centrus was a flat world the likes of which Warren couldn't have imagined. He recalled reading comnet info on the planet back when he was learning about the Empire during his first year with Ztar, but reading of it and seeing it were two different things. Volu's holographic display of the planet during their recon orbit showed a planet nearly devoid of any geological feature taller than a three-story building. With nothing blocking, winds wiped the landscape. If he had to guess, he'd say they gusted to 80 mph plus outside the city that night, and it was a calm period according to Volu. Despite the arduous conditions, the ASurT Volu summoned provided a smooth ride obviously fully equipped to handle the ever-present gales of Tchutchka.

They had traveled in the early morning into the City of Im wanting to visit the shop during the usually quieter time at first opening. As soon as they entered Im, the wind dropped to a gentle breeze under the influence of wind dampening technology. While the natives were equipped to handle their planet's blustery nature, hurricane-force winds weren't good for tourism. The ASurT dropped them off down the street from the shop and Warren and Ettwanae walked to a service alley kitty-corner from the shop to watch for signs of life within. Gatebi and Flint continued on in the vehicle to procure a few supplies.

Ettwanae fished around in the pouch strapped around her waist. "Do you want an Ecanle bar?"

"Thanks," he said taking a bar from her outstretched hand, his fingertips brushing her palm. She smiled sweetly at the small contact. He mentally took a cold shower. They munched silently in morning shadows.

Warren reviewed for the umpteenth time how they would get what they wanted from Tider. They had no imperial credits, but Ettwanae was willing to give up one of the artifacts she'd acquired in her earlier exploits – a pair of U'larr piad purported to be a talisman that helped link bearers with each other through Ura. As fascinating as that sounded, Ettwanae and Volu had no idea how to operate it even if it did as claimed. 'If we gain information on the location of the missing memory nodes, it is well worth the loss,' she had said. With few choices, that was the plan. Warren hoped it was worth more than what his instincts were telling him. If it wouldn't pay for the information they needed, Warren may have to resort to other, riskier methods.

Ettwanae was constantly fiddling her amulet, which she'd pulled out of its hiding spot against her chest. 'Nervous,' Warren concluded. He watched as her fingers moved caressingly over the metalwork almost meditatively. It was a magnificent piece of artistry, even in its incomplete state. Delicate metalwork (he assumed it was metal) surrounded a central gemstone of a color that reminded him of Turzent hair – a deep crimson with lowlights of black. The deeply carved material varied in tone from soft bronze to a rich gold. The round amulet was about three inches across and circumcircled an inverted equilateral triangle that in turn encompassed an incircle. The incircle was the crimson crystal, while each point of the triangle was a memory port. Two empty indentations at the top points of the triangle waited to be filled with the missing nodes and the lower, third point was punctuated with her family's memory crystal. The strengthening sunlight was captured by the central gemstone and flickered in ruby and black flashes as Ettwanae handled it.

"The amulet is quite beautiful."

She looked at him and then down to the amulet. "It is, isn't it?"

"How old? Looks ancient."

"We don't know, but we're guessing anywhere from about my age to a few hundred years. Volu obviously created it when her previous Other died – something Eshaar'ne do automatically as part of preparing for a new joining – but we don't know how long ago that happened."

"She had a previous Other?"

Ettwanae nodded. "So much of Volu's past is lost, but we do know that her original Other died or was killed. As it sometimes happens with Eshaar'ne, Volu apparently became depressed to the point of suicide. All memory of her former Eshaaru and their life together was lost in the attempt. Volu was rescued from ru'zha – suicide – by being placed in stasis, but my mother never said how long ago that happened. Volu remained in stasis until I summoned her with this amulet – mother left it with Bhenra for me. Knowing she had a new Other stopped Volu from completing suicide once she was wakened by my call.

Warren did an 'Aha' – he had an explanation for the memory loss the Eshaar'ne didn't elaborate on earlier. "And purged memories equals lost of the knowledge Volu gained during life with her original Other."

Ettwanae leaned a shoulder against the alley wall, arms crossed. "Sadly, yes. The loss goes all the way back to when she was quite young. Who knows what she and her Other learned that we could have used in our search."

"The term Other refers to the Eshaaru an Eshaar'ne is joined with." Warren repeated what he'd learned from Volu.

"Yes. Like soulbounds, the joining between Eshaaru and Eshaar'ne lasts until the death of one."

"And sometimes the one left behind doesn't survive the death, just like with Eshaaru pairs?" Warren asked with a sadness in his heart that surprised him.

"He or she commits ru'zha. They simply release their Aru back to Ozshi'wanae. It can take many hours, days even." Ettwanae's voice carried sorrow with it as her quiet words floated between them. She looked down, lost suddenly in her own thoughts.

"All that I'm learning about your races speaks of total commitment to one another until death. That is very honorable…and inspiring."

Ettwanae eased off the wall and raised her eyes to meet his. "I have much yet to learn about my people, but it seems that is our way. Pairs are devoted to each other, whatever they face." Her fingers brushed his cheek. "As I am devoted to you." She dropped her hand at the first tingle. "Know that, believe that, despite the failed bond."

She looked so lost, so needful in that moment. He wanted to take Ettwanae into his arms and hold her tightly, but that would result in longings and urges he found painful enough when they didn't touch. Shifting his attention to their surroundings, he realized activity had greatly picked up. A quick look across the street showed movement within the shop.

"It's almost time."

Once certain the business was open, they crossed the street and entered the small shop. Packed claustrophobically with merchandise, relics and antiquities were crammed into every available nook and cranny. A few pieces here and there were nicely displayed, holding places of honor amongst other items of likely far less value that were jumbled in no apparent order. If you were looking for something in particular, it would be a challenge. Knowing Tider's true profession suggested to Warren that the shop was an ignored front maintained grudgingly for appearance's sake.

After a few seconds, a Tchut emerged from the rear of the store. Warren had seen the species up close only once before at the reception where Ztar announced the new constitution. They were squished flat – body, limbs, face. 'Road kill' was the errant imagery that came immediately to mind. If you inflated them, however, they could be loosely described as humanoid, sans the extra limbs.

On a planet where winds at Category 1 hurricane force where considered light, being flat had its advantages. Their six limbs allowed them to scurry tight to the ground if needed, or they could turn thin side into the maelstrom and navigate with greatly reduced drag. In his readings, he learned Tchuts could also use their body as sails and literally ride the wind to where it carried them. The comnet species database had fascinating visuals on what the mode of transport looked like. While most Tchuts no longer took advantage of that ability with modern transportation, it had become a sport of sorts with the more adventurous of the species.

The Tchut smiled a flat grin as it approached. Warren didn't recall how to tell between male and female, but that was irrelevant to their business.

"Gree'ingz. Wha iz of in'erez to you 'oday?" came the heavily accented imperial Turzent. Following an involved conversation would be a challenge since Warren hadn't thought to turn on his embedded translator.

"You have fine items for sale. Your shop offers many temptations." Warren recalled that the species appreciated compliments greatly. Perhaps if they started well with the Tchut, that would make it easier to get to Tider.

All four hands upturned and the smile widened. "Our colleczon haz broad appeal. Wha do you zeek?"

"Our interest is narrowly focused."

The shop attendant pulled a PI from a pocket. "All i'emz coded. 'ell me your area of in'erz and I will find."

Ettwanae had wandered to one of the overloaded shelves and picked up an ornately carved figurine that caught her eye. "This is particularly nice," she commented, turning it around and over in careful examination. "Zoraspian, I believe. Erga carving – perhaps Third Era."

The Tchut angled toward Ettwanae, its flat frame deftly sliding around obstacles. "Correc'. We have authen'cazion. You collec' Zorazpian?"

"No, but my father was in the antiquities business and he taught me much."

"Hiz shop on Za'rey?"

"Yes. Much like this shop – many items of all eras and worlds. He loved being surrounded by things that had lived awhile." She held out the statute. " 'Ettwanae,' he would say, 'can you imagine what this has seen? The changes it has witnessed?' And then he'd tell me about the history of the people who made the item. I loved those times."

Warren could hear the missing in Ettwanae's voice. Love of her adoptive father was self-evident. The Tchut's demeanor had taken on what Warren interpreted as warmth. Ettwanae had touched on something.

"I feel zame. All thiz," a wave of one arm to encompass the shop filled the pause, "'ell zoriez. Only need to liz'en."

"Just as my father would have said it," Ettwanae gave the Tchut a wistful smile.

"He in biznez zill?"

"He died."

The Tchut made a sound resembling a rumbling purr. "May the windz carry him alof."

"Thank you," she accepted the ancient expression of condolences with a dip of her head.

"The Erga is a wonderful piece, but we come for that which is not displayed. A mutual acquaintance sent us seeking the item called Tider." The Tchut instantly stiffened. "It's okay," Ettwanae said reassuringly. "We know the right words to say. Raijis in Keeping sent us."

The Tchut studied Ettwanae closely, obviously trying to determine whether she would allow them to go further with their inquiry. "Le' me look if we have zuch an objec' in our inven'ory."

As the shop attendant disappeared into the backroom, Warren walked over to Ettwanae. "I put our odds at 50/50," he opinioned. "Good job connecting with him or her on an emotional level. Hopefully, it will tilt the odds just enough in our favor."

"Her."

Warren was impressed. "How could you tell?"

"The tonal vibration – only females can do that. It's a comfort sound."

"Like a cat's purr." Ettwanae gave him a look that said she didn't know what he was talking about. "I'll tell you later. What you did with the shopkeeper… we should see if one of us connects more with Tider – that person should do most of the talking. Tider may have a preference of one gender over the other. Keep alert for those types of clues." Ettwanae nodded, but looked nervous. "If that's you, you'll do fine," he said placing his hand on her arm. He allowed his touch to linger, letting their connection awaken, but only so much before he pulled away. The harness suddenly seemed strangling as his wings ached to be free. Warren believed he heard Ettwanae's wings flutter, but couldn't be certain.

Ettwanae walked over to another display, perhaps to put safe distance between them. Picking up a small bowl-like vessel, she held it up for him to see. "This looks to be Zoraspian as well." Then she looked around more, her eyes coming to rest on several items. "In fact, there are many Zoraspian objects here. Tider or someone has strong interest in that culture."

They wandered the shop casually until the Tchut returned a few minutes later. "I have one zuch objec', bu' in a zafe plaze. Follow me." The Tchut's carriage was all business. Whatever empathy Ettwanae had garnered was nowhere to be found. Tribolu's words of warning about the shop assistant floated through Warren's mind. He wondered if their decision to come unarmed was wise or foolish.

The shopkeeper led them into the back, down a corridor, and into a storage room. Warren kept his senses on high alert to potential danger. Volu had them covered as well, her scanners locked onto the shop and she would telepathically warn Ettwanae if anything seemed amiss. They moved through storage racks and crates to what appeared to be a window with a view to the service alley. The shopkeeper placed a palm on the window's lower corner and the image melted away to reveal an obviously reinforced door. Still holding her hand to the spot, the door slowly slid open. The Tchut stepped back.

Just as Warren was about to proceed, Ettwanae touched his sleeve and caught his eyes. She gave him only the slightest shake of the head. It was their signal that Volu was loosing contact with them or had already. 'Psychic dampeners and shields' was Warren's immediate assumption. Had to be powerful to block Volu's advanced technology. They were own their own.

"Wha you zeek iz beyond." A wave of the two hands on the left side of the Tchut's body encouraged them to move along.

Warren stepped through the doorway first and Ettwanae stayed close on his heels. His heart rate escalated slightly. They could just as well be walking into a trap as anything else, but if they didn't proceed, the trip was a waste. He scanned and listened for any signs of hidden attackers. Nothing. Yet. Warren proceeded cautiously down the narrow, brightly lit passageway until they came to another door. Upon their approach, it slid aside to reveal a room that was the complete opposite of the shop. Beautifully decorated with obviously ancient objects in reverend display upon floor to ceiling shelving, each one illuminated with museum-like lighting. At the far end, a large, triangular desk extended several feet in front of its occupant. A single guest chair sat at each of the remaining two sides. No one else was in the room, but Warren didn't believe for a moment that the information broker was unprotected. Warren waited to be acknowledged before proceeding further as a play of respect, hoping to get off on the right foot with the broker.

The alien finally looked up from the screen embedded in the desktop, waving a hand to close whatever file he had been studying. Warren recognized the species, but couldn't recall the name. 'Starts with a P,' was the best he could do. What he could see above the desktop was humanoid, but with strong overtones of bird, surprisingly enough. A narrow ridge of deep turquoise-colored plumage started at the top of the nose, widening as it ran up the forehead and then down the back of the head to end where Warren couldn't see. Eyes, nose, mouth, ears were all in the usual places, but with notable differences. Two large eyes were set wider apart than Human and in the same turquoise as the crest. The pointed nose and smallish mouth protruded prominently and the ears were only round holes on the side of the head with a splayed fan of small feathers surrounding the back of the opening like a half-halo, likely to capture and amplify sound. A thumb and three long fingers made up the hands, with a talon extending from tip of each digit in sufficient length to cause significant damage.

"You are Tider," Warren stated more than asked.

The alien bobbed his head once. "And you come bearing Raijis in Keeping's name. How is my old friend?"

Warren and Ettwanae approached the front of the richly carved desk. "Appearances would say the museum business treats him well. Beyond that…he is more of an acquaintance."

Tider scrutinized Warren before speaking again. "Raijis is very particular in whom he sends my way. What persuaded him to reveal me to mere acquaintances?"

Ettwanae motioned her intent to speak. "I actually have met Raijis more than once. He and I share a fascination with the U'larr culture. I'm researching it as part of my studies. He said you could help us since you also share the interest."

Tider's smile was overtly friendly, but Warren felt just the opposite from the alien. Then the species name came to Warren – Ptakan. The homeworld of the species boasted feathered creatures similar to Earth's. He'd found the world in the comnet database when researching possible sources for feather conditioner after Ztar had dragged him to Sat'rey without that necessity.

"Yes, I do admit a fascination of the U'larr, as do many others. Are your studies at a learning institution I would recognize? Or perhaps it is more of an _independent_ study," he lead, holding Ettwanae's gaze.

Ettwanae was noticeably uncomfortable to Warren – she was not a convincing liar.

"Oh, it's a very small, private academy. I'm sure you've never heard of it."

Warren felt the man was stringing her along and didn't buy her story for a moment. He decided to step in. "Your area of expertise is U'larr, correct?"

Tider leaned back into his chair, which appeared to be a match to the desk with deep and elaborate carving. "Yes. I've spent years studying their culture and collecting artifacts. My collection," he pointed to the shelves filled with relics of all types, "is quite extensive, rivaling many museums. They represent archeological finds from all across the Empire and beyond. My current area of emphasis is Etxan'Ir."

"Many people don't believe it exists," Ettwanae noted.

"They are ignorant. It exists, but hidden. The one that finds it will rediscover the greatest treasure ever lost." Tider's tone was an almost reverent awe.

"Assuming they can access it."

Tider gave Ettwanae an upturned hand of concurrence. "Yes, likely the Library will be heavily protected. Possession is but the first step."

"And there are many searching for Etxan'Ir?"

The Ptaka's expression was one of amusement. "You are either novices or feigning ignorance." He placed a talon to his jaw and studied Ettwanae. "Novices," came the judgment.

"Do you know about the Eshaaru?"

"My data on that species is less extensive, much of it common knowledge, but a few items are far more…exceptional. The Eshaaru is an area of interest to you as well?"

Ettwanae smiled one of her beautiful Sat'reyan grins. Even in her disguise, she was captivating. "Yes, but I'm missing certain key information that prevents my research from moving forward."

"Then perhaps we have a starting point."

Warren decided to reinsert himself into the conversation. "The curator said your knowledge is extensive – that you're an expert in these matters. Perhaps if we described what we're looking for, you can point us in the right direction…understanding, of course, that appropriate compensation for your time is only proper."

The man gestured agreement, taloned fingers spreading wide. "Time is a precious commodity – worth much. What is it you seek?"

"Eshaaru amulet memory nodes."

The turquoise eyes darted from Warren to Ettwanae. "Those are quite rare. Indeed, only six are believed to have been recovered in this trient. There is quite an ongoing debate as to the full purpose of the nodes – anything from being simple data storage devices to being an access key to Etxan'Ir. I have data files on the subject. What do you wish to know?"

Warren wasn't familiar with the term 'trient,' but he let it go in favor of answering the question of the day. "The location of the nodes from Zramynian System." Tider's reaction wasn't one of surprise Warren had expected. How many others had come asking?

"Sadly, my knowledge is limited to the various hypothesis and theories as to the nature and intent of nodes in general. I cannot help with a location of the specific objects you seek." The man looked to be making an effort to appear saddened by his inability to assist.

"I'm confused then, Tider. Tribo'lu believes you have connections and knowledge that is quite…exclusive. In particular, he hoped you might have come upon their possible whereabouts. Rumors, whispers – perhaps more."

"Then he has much more faith in my associations than reality supports. If I had such information, it would place me in jeopardy from those who seek such artifacts with little regard as to their methods of acquisition. It would take significant resources to fend off those seekers."

Warren heard the opening Tider was giving him. "If someone could provide you adequate resources, then perhaps the information could be obtained?"

"All things are possible."

Warren was quickly growing weary of game. "Tider, you are an information broker of the highest ranking. Coyness is unbecoming to someone of your caliber. You likely have information we require. Name your price and let's move this along."

The mask dropped and Tider's face hardened. "Neither do I appreciate excessive coyness, almost as much as I despise amateurish ruse," Tider's eyes grew narrow making Warren suddenly uncomfortable. "Show yourself and perhaps then we can continue without deception between us."

Warren wasn't certain at first what the Ptakan wanted. Then he put it together – Tider had scanned them and his feeble attempt to disguise himself revealed. Had he somehow penetrated Ettwanae's cloak as well? That possibly concerned him. Warren's hesitation obviously irritated Tider.

"You think I would not scrutinize all coming here?" he asked sharply. "You were allowed in my presence only because of the passwords. I will not deal with those who believe me so easily deceived! Now reveal yourself or go."

'Damn!' Warren resigned to himself to having been found out. Too bad Volu didn't have another image inducer. "I will do as you request," he responded quickly with a glance to Ettwanae, hoping his look communicated that she should not disengage her cloak. Sloughing off his trench coat, he was relieved when Ettwanae did not move a hand to her chest. Releasing the harness, he let his wings unfurl and nearly sighed with the instant relief.

Tider rose from his seat, widened eyes roaming Warren's body with in amazement. Then he moved from behind his ornate desk and approached. As was often the case, his wings were something that people seemed to have a need to touch. He stood his ground as the taloned hand reached out and then trailed down his left wing. And as was _always_ the case, an errant shiver ran through Warren at the touch. 'Why is it some people act as if wings are communal property?' he wondered with irritation. Most people asked before stroking the feathers, but there was a surprisingly number of those who did not and simply touched without that courtesy. It was a violation of his person and reminded Warren of what a pregnant friend had once said laughing – 'When your belly grows large, everyone thinks they can rub it without asking, as if being pregnant is an open invitation to be petted.'

"I had been told the Emperor's companion was true Eshaaru, but had my doubts. Now those doubts are in question. You are exactly as Turzent legend describes."

'Damn,' Warren swore slightly. 'Hoping he wouldn't connect me with Ztar. Wishful thinking I guess after the Sat'rey trial.' He turned to face Tider and put the wings out of easy reach. "I only resemble that species. They are apparently extinct. I'm Human."

The smile that crept across the broker's face was a classic even though he was a different species. It said I don't believe that for a moment. "Of course you are," the patronizing tones irritated Warren. "That's what Ztar's communications office tells us and who are we to question their words?" the man asked rhetorically with barely disguised sarcasm.

Tider's question drove home a point. During his time on Sat'rey, Warren rarely gave the comnet news much attention and even less to what Myrundra's communication department dispatched regarding him. Obviously, after the grand reception that was both Ztar's announcement event of the new constitution and Warren's 'coming out' party, something likely had to be said about Warren's heritage given many Turzents still held belief in the legendary Esserru, the Turzent name for Eshaaru. Obviously, Tider didn't believe the official statement.

Slowly circling around, Tider examined Warren as if he were a prized object on the auction block. "You should know there are buyers who would pay vast sums to obtain an Eshaaru."

The man was practically salivating and Warren's ire rose as well as his apprehension. Would Tider attempt to hold them? Maybe visiting Tider was a huge mistake. Enough people were already looking for them. "Then they will need to keep looking. I'm Human. But my genetic lineage isn't what we came to discuss."

"Perhaps not, but if you seek to buy, you will indulge me or leave empty-handed." Then the Ptakan approached Ettwanae much too closely. "And you? What are your secrets? Why is a male Eshaaru and a Sat'reyan female together? What makes you so special?" he asked with intense scrutiny.

The bluntness of the man's questions and the invasion of her personal space unnerved Ettwanae and she stepped backward. "We- I- we are-"

Warren broke in. "We are traveling companions. Beyond that is none of your business."

Tider turned around sharply and circled behind Warren once again. "My business is information, as you yourself pointed out. Asking questions to that end is a requirement. You came to me seeking what I know. Whether or not you leave with what you desire is my choice. Do _not_ anger me." The alien grabbed a handful of feathers and yanked – hard. Warren held himself in check with effort. "You are worth more credits than all the relics in my shop. You have much to learn about the game you've chosen to play. I have yet to see any credits or other valuables to exchange. Or are you offering yourself?" Warren began a slow burn. This Tider was both irritating and arrogant.

"We have yet to see any information. No intel, no credits."

"No credits, no intel. Impasse!" the broker snapped, his crest flaring.

"Do you have information as to the location of the nodes or not?" Warren made no effort to hide his ire.

Tider strode back behind his desk, but did not sit. "I have a _possible_ location."

'At least we're getting somewhere.' But next came the tricky part – they had no money. "What will that information cost us?"

"3,000,000 credits," the man said without hesitation. Warren had no idea how much that was – he never had to worry about money while on Sat'rey and had no clue what the sum meant. A look at Ettwanae revealed her shock. 'Apparently, a lot.'

"But that's enough to purchase a small ship!" Her exclamation rang in the air.

"I am well versed in how much 3,000,000 credits will buy," Tider said smoothly. "That is the price, unless you have something to barter – something of equal or greater worth…"

The piad was pocket change compared to the price Tider was asking – Warren didn't even need to talk to Ettwanae about it. She glanced down at the pouch then up quickly to meet his eyes with a subtle shake of her head. Confirmed. They did not have the means to purchase the information.

For a few moments, Warren considered using the same tactic on Tider as Tribo'lu, but immediately decided against it. This man was used to all sorts of buyers, likely many of them quite dangerous. Plus, they were most certainly under surveillance. One threatening move and he'd put not only himself, but Ettwanae in peril. He would not risk her. "We do not have that kind of money, Tider," he admitted.

Tider's eyes took on the cold wariness of one prepared for foul play. "Then a trade of information is your only viable alternative. Do you have knowledge worth the sum?"

This was not going well. If Ettwanae weren't with him… "Perhaps you and I can speak privately. Discuss more imaginative options." It was a long shot, but worth a try. Ettwanae gave him a worried glance.

Tider sat slowly as if considering the request. "No-o-o," he drew out the word. "My security staff prefers customers to remain together. You understand. Do not be so discouraged by the asking price as to consider rash action. Reflect carefully…perhaps you have knowledge that we should evaluate as to value."

'What's Tider eluding to?' Warren wondered. He wanted something from them or they'd be out on the street already. "And the exact nature of that knowledge?"

"Eshaaru knowledge. I've data that tells me other winged sentients exist on your homeworld. A planet filled with a kaleidoscope of mutants can hide many things that don't wish to be found. Speculation abounds. Perhaps you could end the debate."

That surprised Warren. Turzent military had declared Earth's mutant population classified information. Who all knew what they should not? "You believe Eshaaru are hiding in plain sight on Earth?"

The Ptakan's eyes narrowed. "Not I. _Others_ say you are not the only winged being on your planet."

"They are like me. Mutated Human DNA," he replied, putting conviction into the explanation. Fear rose as Warren imagined his fellow mutants as targets yet again, but for new reasons. In the grand, but secret search for anything of the U'larr and Eshaaru, would others besides the Etagllot be tempted to kidnap mutants, the few winged ones in particular?

Tider brought his hands together to click his talons in succession. "If you have no information regarding Eshaaru on your planet, then what do you have for me?"

Ettwanae moved slightly forward hesitantly. "You want proof the Eshaaru exist or where they dwell?" she asked in clarification.

Tider's fingers halted. "Yes, a point of distinction. There is much debate amongst the searchers. Do the Eshaaru still live or do they not? You," he waved a hand at Warren, "to some are proof they live among us, yet they have no solid evidence to offer, unless of course you are carefully examined. To others, you represent only a throwback to old Eshaaru DNA long ago seeded on your world or simply as you proclaim – mutated DNA. I have seen no undeniable proof that Eshaaru still roam our galaxy. To have such evidence would be…nearly priceless."

Ettwanae and Warren exchanged quick glances and Warren was immediately concerned. Ettwanae was up to something, but what? 'God, I wish one of us was telepathic!'

"Worth the price of the location of the Eshaaru memory nodes from Jandur?"

"Worth that and perhaps more." Tider was easing forward in his chair. Ettwanae definitely had his full attention.

"May we sit, Tider?" she asked. At his gesture, they perched in the two chairs at the desk. "We may have what you desire, but how do we know we can trust you?"

"How do I know I can trust you?" he threw the question back. "We don't. We simply must proceed as if we do, knowing that betrayal is a dangerous reciprocation. In my business, reputation is everything. People come to me from all corners of the Empire and beyond for what I can provide. If I did not keep my word, I would not be sitting here talking with you."

Warren nodded. Rarely in the underworld market are cheats long tolerated. "We will trust you then when you say you have information on the whereabouts of the Jandur nodes and that information is worth the price. How many times, though, has this information been sold?"

"It is recently acquired and not yet offered for sale. This will be a one-time transaction. A commodity of this nature is unique – no longer available from me once sold."

"And the information we provide you? What will become of that?" Warren's concern was growing as to what exactly Ettwanae was offering as exchange. Was she going to reveal herself?

"If you have proof that Eshaaru are alive, that would be a unique commodity of highest value and offered but once."

"The buyer of that information could be an enemy."

The expression that came next was condescending. "That is how this business works, _Human_." Tider put a sarcastic emphasis on name. "You sell information to me and I sell it to the next buyer. I do not screen my clients beyond whether or not they have the purchase price. Who buys what you sell is your risk. I am not forcing you into this transaction."

Warren flicked his wings in response to the uncertainty of whether they do business with the Ptakan, yet they currently had no other options. His greatest concern was who Tider's buyer would be. Perhaps a hasty call to Ztar for one of Gtar-Cro's people to be that customer. At least then, the information would be in known hands. He still didn't know with certainty that Ettwanae was going to reveal her heritage, but it was her decision, and it may be the only thing that would gain them what they needed. He had one last question. "And data regarding our visit with you today – beyond our commodity – what is that worth on the open market?"

Tider's face took on a look Warren read as disappointment or disapproval. "Novices don't understand the rules and it is distressing when they take on a game beyond their skill. Perhaps after our primary transaction, funds may remain for a few lessons. If you're interested in continuing to play, that is." Tider cocked his head and his eyes darted from Warren to Ettwanae and back again. "Information about my clients is not for sale. If it were, I'd be dead. Simple. Easy to understand."

It made perfect sense, but Warren had to ask. Too much was at stake for assumptions.

Ettwanae leaned toward Tider and placed her hand on the edge of his desk. "Then we have the start of a transaction. You have information on the whereabouts of the Zramynian nodes and I have proof the Eshaaru still live," Ettwanae said firmly, but Warren detected a slight tremor in her hand.

"As is customary, you will present payment and then receive your goods," the broker explained as anticipation flickered in his turquoise eyes.

Ettwanae reached for her chest, but did not spread her fingers in the formation to disengage the cloak. Instead, she pulled the amulet out from beneath her clothing. "You recognize what this is?" she asked, dangling it from the chain.

Tider's eyes scrutinized the amulet. "An Eshaaru amulet. All the right symbols, all the right portions, but missing two nodes. However, amulets are routinely faked. May I?" he asked, reaching out his hand. "I'd like to scan it."

She hesitated for a moment, then pulled the chain over her head and handed her most precious possession to Tider. He quickly opened a desk drawer and placed the amulet inside. Within moments, the feather crest on his head raised slightly as he turned back to Ettwanae. "You have a genuine Eshaaru amulet." He pulled the necklace out of the scanner and returned it to Ettwanae. "That does not prove the Eshaaru still live."

"I understand. As a student of the ancient races, you know that the amulet can only be activated by an Eshaaru."

"That is true. Your amulet and its node are useless to anyone but an Eshaaru."

She held the amulet out in her upturned palm. "Then tell me what this reveals." Ettwanae focused on the amulet. Suddenly, the single memory node began to twinkle from within and immediately a hologram filled the room. It was a still image of her parents with T'Qilla holding a very young Ettwanae in her arms – a scene Warren was shown shortly after he was taken aboard Volu. "These are Eshaaru."

Tider's face went from surprise, to amazement, to awe in the space of seconds as he took in the scene surrounding them – a three-dimensional moment frozen in time – and the realization of what it meant.

Ettwanae stood, still holding the amulet steady on her palm. She pressed the three fingers of her other hand to her chest and the cloak rippled away. "I am Eshaaru."

Warren thought Tider would pass out. His color drained, his mouth hung open, and Warren believed his breathing had come to a stop. Odd sounds came from somewhere deep in the man's throat, almost like a soft clucking. Then he rose slowly out of his chair and wandered through his office, taking in the holographic details, finally coming to a stop in front of the three Eshaaru. He examined them closely; then looked back at Ettwanae as if to match the child's face to hers.

"You are the child?" he asked in the hushed tone one would use in church.

Ettwanae nodded, "I am."

"Your parents?"

"Yes."

"It's all true – some said you still lived. I wanted to believe, but-" Tider shuddered visibly. "You are Eshaaru?" he asked again as if he couldn't quite let himself believe.

Ettwanae smiled. "Yes. We are not extinct."

"And you live among us? How many? Where? How have you remained hidden?" The questions tumbled out in growing excitement. Then another realization dawned on his face. "Your cloak! My scanners- the best money can buy, yet… Your DNA says Sat'reyan – how?"

Warren hoped Ettwanae wouldn't get carried away with the moment; not share anything further. He caught her eyes, narrowed his own with a slight shake of his head.

"Tider, we all have our secrets." The hologram faded and Ettwanae lowered her hand. "Our agreement was to give you proof we still exist. I have given you that." She slid the chain over her head, settled the amulet back in its resting spot, and engaged the embedded cloak.

The switch back to Sat'reyan brought Tider out of his awestruck state. "I have many questions," he said moving back to behind his desk, but didn't sit. "Perhaps there are more transactions we can initiate? I am of great resources, both credits and information. If you are in need of funds..." he let the rest of the offer hang.

"As tempting as that is," Warren spoke before Ettwanae could, "we must decline. Our need at the moment is for the location of the Zramynian nodes."

The Ptakan sat in slow motion. Warren could almost hear the wheels of contemplation turning in the alien's mind. No one spoke for many seconds. Then Tider's face relaxed and his body language changed to something Warren didn't know how to interpret. It set him on edge.

Tider looked to Warren. "You still claim to be Human?"

"I _am_ Human. The resemblance is coincidence."

Tider produced an odd sounding half-laugh, half-cackle. "That's some coincidence! But, if you insist. Though why you think anyone would believe…" The unfinished thought was punctuated with a hand gesture that apparently meant bewilderment. "You have given me what I can only describe as undeniable proof and your side of the transaction is fulfilled. The Eshaaru memory nodes from the Zramynian mining operation are believed to be on Neu."

A frown crossed Ettwanae's face. "Neu? I haven't heard of that. Is it a planet?"

"Yes. Pre-FLT. On the Empire's non-contact list."

"Who has them?"

Tider shook his head. "You asked for the location, nothing more. My part of the transaction is fulfilled."

"A planet is rather vague, Tider. Certainly what we've revealed is worth more than the name of a planet?"

Tider's crest flicked slightly and he spread his taloned fingers wide. "Perhaps you are Human after all! An Eshaaru would need nothing more than that. The amulet will lead to the exact location. A pity really. An Eshaaru pairing would be of incalculable good fortune." Tider shook his head. "But I feel generous today – the nodes are believed to be within a citadel on Neu." He then looked to Ettwanae. "You travel with this man knowing he is a mere illusion? Is your existence that lonely?"

"Who has the nodes?" She asked, ignoring Tider's question.

The broker tapped his talons on the desktop, in turn ignoring Ettwanae's question. He turned back to Warren. "You are right on one point – the information you sold is worth more than the name of a planet. A few lessons can be purchased with the remaining funds. Lesson One – ask the right questions. Do not waste opportunity."

Warren set aside Tider's putdown. "Ettwanae's question first."

Tider sighed. "It is believed The Dark Ones have the nodes you seek."

"You are certain? It wasn't Seekers perhaps?"

"I just said rumors say Dark Ones. Do not waste questions!" he retorted in irritation and Ettwanae stiffened at the tone. Warren took over.

"Tell us about the game – the big picture."

Tider leaned back and gave Warren an appreciative look. "Good. You are learning. You may yet make adequate searchers. Perhaps if this goes well, you will reconsider selling me additional information, but for now, you still have unspent funds."

The broker reached for a slender, graceful sculpture that sat on his desk. About a foot tall, it looked to be of a filigreed metal and clear glass, narrowing in its middle with the lower half partially filled with what looked like iridescent sand. 'Like a stylized hourglass,' Warren felt. Sure enough. Tider turned the piece upside down and settled it on the desk, but no sand trickled through the narrow throat of the sculpture.

"I do not have all the answers, but I know a great deal. You have one turn to ask any questions you wish. When the azu grains run out, our transaction is complete. Ask your first question." Tider said with a hand hovering by the sculpture.

"What is the game we've entered?" Warren asked. Tider immediately tapped the side of timer and grains began to fall.

"A game that is at least a thousand standard years old. They seek Etxan'Ir – the Library of all Knowledge. It is the greatest of archeological hunts and one of the best-kept secrets in the known galaxy. All very unofficial. Why searchers seek the library depends on the player. For many, knowledge is power and they desire Etxan'Ir for that reason. Others for the fame such a legendary find would bring. For some, more altruistic and intellectual purposes drive them. For a smaller number still, the motives remain a mystery, but tend toward the ominous."

"Who are the key players?"

"Seekers, Etagllot, The Dark Ones, and individual searchers such as you."

"The Etagllot – why do they want Etxan'Ir?"

"Uncertain. There are rumors of an old and mysterious project called Omnipotent, but the Etagllot always have projects. That group is…puzzling."

"Who are the Seekers? We already know they are a loose coalition of searchers." Warren wasn't hearing anything new and the sands continued to drain.

"That group is anyone from experienced, individual searchers to some of the most prominent archeological researchers in the known realms. They tend to share information through certain channels." The expression on Tider's face told Warren what he only needed to confirm.

"You are a channel." The man's fingers spread in affirmation. "The Dark Ones?"

Tider leaned back, resting elbows on the chair arms to bring his fingers together in a steeple – a very Human-like pose, Warren thought. "Enigmas. A serious lot with seemingly vast resources. Their motives are unknown and methods often malevolent. They take what they want and if you stand in their way, you are eliminated from the game. Permanently."

"But who _are_ they?"

Tider's fixed his gaze on Ettwanae. "I was hoping you might answer that at some point. Many believe the Eshaaru would have detailed knowledge of The Dark Ones. They are the great unknowns."

Ettwanae shook her head. "I have no knowledge of them."

"Then the mystery remains." Tider glanced at the hourglass; the sands were quickly running out. "Your time is short."

"If the nodes are not on Neu, any other suspected locations?"

"No. I have learned only that they may be on Neu, no other information has come to me."

"Has the location of Etxan'Ir been narrowed down?" Warren quickly asked, switching gears.

"It is thought to be within either the Empire or Commonwealth space, but there is no proof, of course."

Ettwanae's expression was almost desperate. "Do you know of any other Eshaaru? Have you heard of any others of my kind?" The grains were very close to gone. Surprisingly, Tider reached over to the timer and stopped the flow.

"What-" Tider raised his hand in a sharp 'halt' gesture to silence Warren.

"This next answer is my homage to you as Eshaaru," he explained, his turquoise eyes locked onto Ettwanae's black Sat'reyan orbs. "I have lived to see you in your glory, a blessing few have been granted in recorded time. I will ask no questions of you out of respect, but I gather you have somehow been separated from your people." Tider moved forward in his chair and leaned toward Ettwanae. "This I know. Only three Eshaaru are reported to have been seen in more than 500 standard years. The Etagllot supposedly had an Eshaaru male in their possession some 20 standard years ago whom they could not save."

Warren jerked internally – the man the Fjai scientist had shown him? A quick glance to Ettwanae revealed widened eyes, no doubt the timing of the Eshaaru's capture particularly grabbed her. T'Azrued – her father? The revelation relieved him of telling her, something he realized with guilt he should have done earlier.

"Decades before that, it is believed a female Eshaaru was captured by an unidentified group, but subsequently died or was killed. There is a possibility, and I emphasis _possibility_, that another Eshaaru is being held somewhere at this time. That rumor could be mere wishful thinking or perhaps a convolution of your existence." Tider eased away from his desk and seemed to ponder whether to share anything further. Warren and Ettwanae remained silent. Their patience paid off.

"Beware, Eshaaru. You are hunted. The predators are powerful and have eyes and ears in many places." Tider fixed his look on Ettwanae. "I am going to connect the evidence and say that you are joined. Reports I've acquired speak of a mysterious cloaked ship – likely you and your Eshaar'ne. You have made yourself known. Your actions…they leave a confusing and sometimes dishonorable trail; a trail that has piqued the interest of even those outside the search. Very unEshaaru-like behavior." The man's tone was almost scolding.

Warren gave a sideways glance at Ettwanae. Her return look transmitted confusion.

"My actions? My worst crime is stealing _supplies_," she said actually blushing at the confession. "A crime, yes, but of necessity. I don't understand…."

Tider visibly started in his chair. "Then perhaps I was right. I insisted the reports were too contradicting, almost portraying two disparate personalities," he said excitedly. "The evidence suggested to me that two Eshaar'ne roam our Empire." Ettwanae's head snapped toward Warren. Tider read the move. "You have encountered the other one? I _was_ correct! Two Eshaar'ne," he smiled in satisfaction. "Then the question becomes who is that Eshaar'ne joined with? I also suggested it is not Eshaaru, but perhaps a Dark One. Just my theory, you understand, based on the nefarious actions. There are people outside the search seeking that ship. That makes your situation even more perilous."

Warren could literally feel the anxiety radiating off Ettwanae. None of what Tider was revealing was comforting. "Who else is looking?"

Tider shook his head. "Wait," he ordered Warren, then turn once again to Ettwanae. "I am sorry that my information is not more encouraging, but you need to understand the danger you are in. For your own sake, you should leave this part of the galaxy and find safe haven. If you _are_ a pairing…go, have children, repopulate your race where those who seek you for their own purposes cannot reach you." The man's voice was almost pleading; quite a change in demeanor from a short while ago. Nothing in his voice or body language put his sincerity to doubt. Warren believed he actually was hoping to help Ettwanae.

"But my people…"

"Your people are perhaps near extinction – in this sector of the galaxy, at least. But then again, given the power of your cloak…" Then Tider's expression changed and he slid back into the depths of his chair. "I have done what I can. My conscious is without guilt. What you choose to do with the warning is your decision." He reached over and touched the timer. "Now, ask your last question. Ask well."

Warren's mind raced. One thought jumped to mind. "How do we get past the Dark One's defenses?" Tider did not answer; only watched the grains run through the hourglass. 'What's he thinking?' Warren wondered. 'Will he answer? Can he answer?'

As the last of the grains fell, Tider waved his hand across his desk and the embedded computer came to life. Deft fingers operated the interface swiftly until he found the file he was obviously seeking and then sighed. When Tider looked up, Warren believed he saw worry in the eyes.

"Little is known about The Dark Ones, and even less about their weaknesses. As to their citadel defenses on Neu, I have no information. However, a personal log from long ago references a possible weakness of their kind. Light. It says, 'The being cringed in the light of my luminary and its inky blackness backed away. When I increased the intensity, it howled with a screech that pierced my soul. It was then I chose to run.' Perhaps there is truth in the report…perhaps light is their vulnerability. That is all I can offer."

"Our transaction is concluded then?" Ettwanae asked.

"Yes. We are both whole. You have your commodity and I have mine." Then the Ptakan gave Ettwanae an almost humbled gaze. "And I have paid homage to you. May your goddess watch over you and protect her favored ones."

Ettwanae gave him one of her beautiful Sat'reyan smiles. "And may she watch over you, Tider."

The Ptakan bowed his head for a full two seconds and then rose. "Now you must leave – in disguise," Tider prompted with a nod in Warren's direction.

Warren quickly worked himself into the harness and slipped on his coat. Tider waited for them at the exit of his large office. When he activated the door, the Tchut shopkeeper was standing on the other side. "Kynkz will lead you out."

In less than a minute, they were back on the street that by then was alive with activity and filled with people of all sorts going about daily life and tourist adventures. Ettwanae and Warren darted across the street between null-grav vehicles and back into the alley to wait for Gatebi and Flint to show up in a "borrowed" transport. While Warren and Ettwanae were busy with Tider, Gatebi and Flint were responsible for acquiring a few necessities – various galley items, toiletries, a few items of clothing, and the like. They visited a self-service general store where once again Volu could work her magic from afar with the shop's AI. While not a full resupply stop, it would tide them over. More stealing, more shame.

/ _Volu?_ / Ettwanae reached out.

/ _I am relieved to hear you, Poda. You are ready to come home? _/

/ _Yes. And with much information!_ / She couldn't help but be both excited and anxious over what they'd learned. It was far more than she had expected. Yet the price was steep. Revealing her existence was extremely risky. Now that knowledge would be available to the highest bidder.

/ _Then I will signal Gatebi and Flint. They are not far._ /

Ettwanae turned her attention to Warren. "They'll be here soon." He seemed somewhat distracted, his eyes darting around, and only nodded acknowledgement. "The Eshaaru Tider spoke of from 20-some years ago...that may have been my father." Her heart was torn between sadness and relief at perhaps having closure of her father's disappearance. But likely confirmation of his death had struck deep. A shudder ran through her as the full impact hit.

"But didn't you say it was the Shozen that were after your parents? Tider said the Etagllot."

Warren was right – that part was puzzling. "I know. It doesn't make sense. Maybe my parents just thought it was the Shozen."

"Or perhaps the Shozen and the Etagllot are connected." Warren seemed on edge and he scanned their surroundings a second time. "Hope the others get here soon."

"Something wrong?"

"Not sure. Feel uneasy, like someone's watching us."

Ettwanae immediately searched with her equally keen eyesight, but saw nothing suspicious. "Maybe we should leave. Volu will track us wherever we go."

He nodded and she turned to head toward the alley entrance, slightly in front of Warren. Then something hit her with staggering force. Pain! Blinding yet numbing pain. The world started to go black. She fought to hold onto consciousness as her body collapsed beneath her. Somehow, she managed to catch herself on hands and knees, vaguely aware that Warren was moving, his cry to her sounding muffled and surreal.

Then strong hands grabbed her up, the sensation barely registering through the insentience. She thought she heard Warren swear in Turzent as he jerked abruptly. "Trapped!" came through her mushy consciousness quite clearly on the other hand.

/ _Ettwanae, what is happening? I detected weapons fire! Your bio-signs-_ /

/ _Hold,_ / was the best her stunned brain could manage.

/ _No, Ettwanae! You are injured._ /

"Stay where you are!" a strange voice commanded them. Ettwanae struggled to open her eyes against the pain and partial paralysis.

/ _Stay where you are._ / Ettwanae likewise ordered her Eshaar'ne. She would not risk exposing Volu if she and Warren could handle the situation themselves. Warren was a trained fighter, her clearing mind recalled.

"Who are you? What do you want?" She felt Warren's words reverberate in his chest as he yelled, despite her sensory limitations. Then the familiar whizzing sensation pulsed through her as Eshaaru accelerated healing went into full swing.

"On your knees!" the order came.

/ _But _m_y Poda…_ / The mind-voice was frantic.

"What do you want? Credits? What?"

/ _That's a _command_, my Other._ /

Warren was stalling; she knew it without a doubt. He was helpless with her in his arms. 'Just need a little more time,' she told herself as she managed to raise her eyelids. Through blurry vision, she was able to make out three forms blocking their path to the street.

"Either get on your knees or we fire. Choose!"

Vision suddenly sharpened, the pain was easing by the heartbeat, but the odd numbness was still with her.

"Now!" the man yelled as she watched the three weapons leveled unwaveringly in their direction. She felt Warren begin to kneel when a choking sound began echoing off the alley walls. Her heart leapt when she thought it was Warren. Looking quickly up into his face, it was obviously not coming from him, though he was squinting against the sunlight in his face. 'What?' Turning back to the three figures, they were dropping their weapons, hands to throats. The strangled sounds grew more intense. She saw their eyes start to budge as they pawed at their necks. Then one went to his knees, followed by another, and quickly by the third. Like dominos, they fell in succession face first onto the alley pavement. Their bodies twitching until all movement ceased.

"What the fuck?" Warren exclaimed just as a lone figure entered the front of the alley, his face shrouded by a hooded cloak.

/ _Ettwanae, what has happened? My sensor readings do not make sense._ /

"Put me down," Ettwanae whispered, never taking her eyes off the newest threat. Warren gave her a quick 'are you able to stand?' look and she nodded. As her feet touched the ground, she grabbed onto him to steady herself against the world that spun and tilted.

/ _Wait, Volu._ /

"We have you to thank for that?" Warren's voice was strong as he gestured toward the three unmoving bodies. His calmness impressed her.

"You were careless. We had hoped you were more savvy than this. To be caught in a dead-end alley is an amateur's mistake. And to come here unarmed was foolhardy."

The voice was emotionally cold and it sent chills through Ettwanae. The "we" piqued her interest, but she'd let Warren handle the conversation, not confident in her own voice.

"You are right. Sloppy," Warren agreed. "To whom can we express our appreciation?"

"Don't thank me yet. You do not know whether I'm friend or foe."

"Which are you then?"

The laugh that followed was patronizing. "Both. Neither. Remember that friend and foe are often one in the same, just as the hunter and the hunted can be both."

The alley had ceased its vertigo dance as Ettwanae tested her vocal cords. "Who are you? Who do you work for?"

A quieter chuckle made its way to them quickly. "If I answered that, it would ruin the mystery. Zaiyoth, be on guard. You are prey for more than one hunter." The figure began moving on.

"Zaiyoth?" Ettwanae asked puzzled. The word was new to her.

"Who hunts us?" Warren called out as their mysterious savior slipped from sight. "Damn!" he swore quietly and ran up to the head of the alley past the fallen bodies, looked around, then turned back to Ettwanae with a shrug. "We'd best go," he said jogging back to her. One person was already looking into the alley at the three bodies. "Can you carry me?" he asked hastily with a glance over his shoulder. The passerby was motioning for another to come look at the scene.

Ettwanae nodded. Warren would be easy to carry. Grabbing his hands, they leapt into the air together amidst swirling dust and debris from the downbeat of her powerful wings as the onlookers gaped. They would not see the wings – all they saw were two figures rise out of the alley, one dangling from the hands of the other.

/ _Volu, our rendezvous location is changing. Track me. _/

/ Y_ou are out of danger?_ / Relief was evident in Volu's telepathic voice.

/ _Apparently. I want everyone back to you quickly. _/

/ _Understood._ /

###

_A/N: Comments? Observations? Reactions? What grabbed you and what didn't? How do you feel about Tider? Would love any feedback you're willing to send my way. In my mind, Tider and Den-neer are cut from the same cloth, as the saying goes, with Den-neer being a more ruthless version._

_Preview: The aftermath of the visit with Tider. It's on to Neu, but stores are running low and something needs to be done. Warren comms the Emperor. We get another peek at Tider and Den-neer. And what of the three bodies in that alley?_


	25. Chapter 24

_A/N: The crew needs supplies, Den-neer takes care of some final business on Tchutchka Centrus with Tider, and Warren asks the Emperor for a couple favors. _

**Chapter 24**

Having rendezvoused at a new location, Volu commanded the ASurT out beyond the city through winds that had risen to Cat 2 hurricane force to where the Eshaar'ne waited. With supplies quickly off-loaded under a protective shield bubble, Volu lifted gently through Tchutchka Centrus' atmosphere, her stealth abilities making their departure invisible to those monitoring air traffic. Once out of the Tchutchka system, she came to a halt while the group determined their next destination.

In the gathering room, stories were exchanged in a debriefing session. Agreement all around said the trip was a success beyond what anyone could have hoped, but a lot of what they learned was not encouraging. Much gained, but at a price. To whom would Tider sell the knowledge of Ettwanae? And the attack in the alley put everyone even more on edge.

"So ya think those dudes was Etagllot?" Flint asked as he popped another of his favorite candies into his mouth.

"We don't know," Ettwanae sighed with a slight ruffle of feathers. "Could be Etagllot, Shozen, Dark Ones, or someone else. Both the man who saved us and Tider said we're hunted by many."

Warren's heart lurched at the tone of defeat edging into Ettwanae's voice. He placed a reassuring hand on her wrist while simultaneously kicking himself for not thinking to ask Tider about the Shozen. "No one's caught us yet. We'll be okay." A tingle traced his fingers.

"But this gets more dangerous all the time!" she pointed out, emotions rising up. "It was bad enough when I thought only the Shozen were after me. Then came the Etagllot. Now…" Her golden waves, still in some disarray, danced as she shook her head. "Maybe Tider was right. Maybe we should just run away while we can. This is – it's too much."

He thought she'd be more excited about having a possible location for the nodes, but instead Ettwanae was focusing on the negative. Warren watched the blue eyes begin to glisten. The urge to pull her into an embrace and chase away the fears nearly overwhelmed him, but he stayed rooted in place and gave her arm a gentle squeeze instead. "It may feel that way right now, but we can't let others keep us from our goals. You need to find your people. I want to get rid of the nannites. I'm not willing to give up on those dreams. Danger can lurk no matter where you go." He drew his hand back as less platonic urges began warming parts of him he'd rather stayed cool.

"Warren is right, Ettwanae. Even if we abandon our goals and leave this sector of the galaxy, there are no guarantees of safety beyond imperial space," Volu injected.

"Don't forget you got friends, Twae! We're with ya. Hell, bring 'em on – Etagllot, Shozen, Dark Ones…don't matter. We can take 'em! Me and War, we can tackle anything they throw at us. You watch. And Vo – she can kick ass, too." Then the teen turned toward the Alcab. "Gatebi, she…well, she's good for _somethin'_ – I'm sure we'll figure out what it is one of these days!" Flint's prep talk and jibe worked and a smile crept across Ettwanae's face as Gatebi huffed.

"And we know more than we did a few hours ago," Warren reminded. "We're making progress. Volu, how long to reach Neu?"

"At my best speed, 10.4 imperial standard days, assuming no delays."

"That long?" Warren bemoaned. They'd already spent 17 standard days mostly cooped up. The vastness of the Empire he'd known for years, but when confined to a very small ship, travel times become a challenge mentally. How did Ettwanae and the others endure it?

"It is actually close, Warren, in interstellar terms. This sector of the Empire is quite compact. Most of the Turzent Empire is vast stretches of empty space or uninhabited systems."

He nodded. "I know…it just drives home a point," he explained with an unconscious flick of his wings, something Ettwanae caught.

"We make stops, Warren…as often as necessary, but space travel is not for the impatient." She gave him an understanding smile and brushed his upper arm with her hand. That sent a quiver through his wings. "Whenever you need the skies, we will find a suitable world."

Her words left him feeling less than the tough guy he believed himself to be. How did she deal with lack of airtime? Were Eshaaru better equipped mentally to deal with confinement? 'Must be the case,' he concluded. 'Otherwise, roaming the galaxy gathering knowledge for Etxan'Ir would be misery.'

He turned his thoughts from that to other physical requirements. "We've already used about 19 days worth of our estimated 25-day supply of food, not counting the few necessities we picked up on Tchutchka. By the time we reach Neu, our food will be gone unless we start rationing. Any chance of resupplying on there?" He directed that question primarily to Volu.

"That is highly unlikely. Neu is a primitive world. My navigational memory says it is sparsely populated and its people are hunters and farmers living in small villages."

"Tider said it's classified as a non-contact world by the Empire."

"He was correct, Warren. We will need to look elsewhere. There is an opportunity along the way. Thael would add 2.1 days to our journey, but provides what we need to fulfill two needs."

Ettwanae immediately brightened. "Thael! It's on our way?"

"A short detour, but yes."

Ettwanae turned to Warren. "I love Thael. So will you. The Thao Plateau is beautiful – a perfect place for flying."

Flint rolled his eyes. "Twae loves anything that's got lots of nothin'. Bor-r-ing! The city's my style. More action. You hang in the Big Apple – you know what I mean, right, War?"

"Either suits me. A chance for some elbowroom will be good for everyone. How long to Thael?"

"5.3 days," Volu responded.

"So we can both restock and stretch our wings and legs, correct?"

"Correct!" Ettwanae affirmed happily.

Gatebi gestured her approval. "It will be a welcomed diversion."

"Oh, yeah! Restocking means a swing by one of their cities, like Nuunce. You should see it, War. Looks like something right outta a sci-fi flick! Maybe you and I can go check out the nightlife. What ya say?"

Warren put up a hand in Flint's direction. "Business first, meaning we restock. As I said before, I'm not in favor of your methods of procurement. I want to contact Ztar for funds." Dubious looks shot his way. Warren had a second reason to call Ztar, but he'd not mention that yet. "I trust Ztar. He won't betray us."

"I'm still not sure…" Ettwanae gave him a worried look.

"If you trust me, then trust the Emperor. Buying our supplies is far less risky and doesn't create unwanted attention. We have enough people looking for us without adding law enforcement. I do not want to be on the wrong side of the Empire's security forces."

"Warren makes a strong case," the Alcab said firmly. "Criminal status could greatly complicate our lives. We've been fortunate thus far, but one mistake and we could find ourselves in serious trouble."

Flint nodded enthusiastically. "I'm with Gabby and War. The Emperor must have gobs of dough – our money worries are over! If War says trust Ztar Almighty, I say we do."

Warren smirked at Flint's nickname for the Emperor. Seemed no one was spared the kid's penchant for monikers. Volu hadn't yet voiced her opinion and as the seconds passed, it appeared she wasn't going to. "Volu?" Warren prompted. He wanted her buy-in.

"Traditional credit transactions and transfers can be traced by those with the power to do so. Law enforcement authorities are a given. I worry about others _beyond_ those with valid access…those who have perhaps have the technology to breach the system – such as the Etagllot, Shozen, and their operatives. If they can track our movements through our transactions, the threat is greater."

"Then we must be careful not to let our transactions become a linear pointer to our next destination."

"If we take precautious, then I will support the idea for now."

"Thank you, Volu." Warren looked expectantly to Ettwanae.

Still not looking fully convinced, she gave in. "Very well. I agree."

"_Yes_!" Flint exclaimed. "Some new clothes, maybe more games – how 'bout some flicks or other stuff. No offense, Vo, but it can get _re-eally_ boring around here, ya know? We need us some entertainment." Then Flint jerked and his hand snapped up to the back of his neck. "Jesus! Ya'd think I'd called her a ho or somethin'!"

Whether or not the various embedded translators understood Flint's slang, he didn't know. Warren did and it made him grimace. "Flint, Volu is likely annoyed with you on a couple points," was all he offered the teen.

"_Wha-aat_?" Flint whined his ignorance.

"I'll comm Ztar to see what can be done about our finances. In the meantime, we should make our best speed to Thael. Volu, do you have much in your databanks about Neu?"

"Not much more than what I mentioned earlier."

"I'll review that later along with everything you can dig up on the comnet about The Dark Ones."

"I am uncomfortable tapping into Imperial resources too often, Warren." The Eshaar'ne's unease was palpable.

"Volu, if we're going up against the Dark Ones on Neu, I need every scrap of intel you can get. We need you to do this." Warren was firm. Ignoring possible sources of information out of fear of detection bordering on irrational was foolhardy. Volu needed to overcome her aversions.

Seconds ticked by as Volu remained quiet. "Very well, Warren." Some irritation and a lot of hesitation resounded in the reply.

"Thank you, Volu. I'll talk with you later about what you find." He glanced around at his shipmates. What dangers would they face in the coming days? What would they find on Neu? What exactly were the Dark Ones? Did their little ragtag team stand a chance in hell of retrieving the memory nodes, assuming they were even there? Those questions and more raced through his mind. 'First things first, Worthington. You won't get far without supplies. Focus on that little problem right now.' Warren stood with a mental sigh. "That's all for now, everyone. I'll comm Ztar from my room."

Before Warren could take two steps down the corridor, Volu spoke. "Warren, I would prefer you use my communications systems and not your PI."

'Here we go again.' He sighed audibly this time. "My PI is military issue – it uses a highly secure military channel."

"It may also have other capabilities we do not wish to activate."

"Volu, we've discussed this point before. What is it you fear so much?" he demanded, entering his tiny room.

"Tracking."

"If it does, can't you detect that and disable it?"

"Likely, but Turzent technology has become quite advanced. I cannot guarantee I am sensing everything it is capable of."

"You don't want to risk detection." He grabbed the PI from its spot on his crate turned dresser.

"I would prefer to use my own communications and avoid unknown problems."

"Can you replicate the PI's signal and make the military comm and Ztar's PI think your signal is my PI?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"No? But your technology is superior…" He sat on his makeshift bed and scooted back for a perhaps lengthy conversation with Ztar.

"Turzent technology is beginning to exceed some of my capabilities. I am not all-powerful. I have limitations – many of which are due to my organic nature. I am a tens of thousands-year-old design, Warren. The younger races are catching up."

Suddenly, it all made much more sense. Volu's hesitations and what he had begun to think was paranoia were fears of becoming obsolete. "You never mentioned that when we talked about your capabilities, Volu," he pointed out with some annoyance. He'd specifically asked her about weaknesses and she should have voiced those concerns then, he felt. "I understand what you're saying, but I still need to talk with Ztar." Warren held out the PI. "Scan it – with everything you can think of. If you find nothing, I will use it. The PI is a direct link to the Emperor and too valuable to discard."

He felt the odd awareness of Volu's emotional state without her speaking. Irritation. "I have done so already and found nothing."

"Then scan again in different ways. Use your imagination." Warren was done arguing. If he was in charge of their quest, this was his decision whether the Eshaar'ne liked it or not. Seconds ticked by in silence.

"Nothing," came the terse summation.

"Then I'm using it. Perhaps I'll regret the decision, but bottom line, I trust Ztar. Even if he found a way to trace the comm, he would not harm us."

"I wish I shared your belief, but it is not he alone that rules the Empire. My primary concern is Ettwanae's wellbeing and survival."

That riled Warren. "Then why the hell this quest? If she's to be protected above all else, this mission makes no sense! She's at risk every step of the way. You should run like hell, far away from this part of the galaxy just like she said earlier – it's too dangerous here."

"It is a balance of risk versus gain. Ettwanae's ultimate survival and happiness rests greatly on finding our people."

"And Ztar could _help_ us," Warren implored, throwing his hands up in frustration. "He has vast resources at his disposal."

"I do not trust him!" Anger filled the Eshaar'ne's voice. "The Emperor has a less than honorable history. He conquered and forced systems to join his Empire. He enslaved worlds that fought him. He killed people who resisted him. His intelligence arm is ruthless in its work. How can you expect me to trust him? Did you always believe in him?" Warren flinched. She had him on that. "You say he has changed, and that appears to be the case, but this new emperor and his reborn empire are young and untested. He must _earn_ my trust one step at a time, just as he likely did yours." Then he heard what sounded like a sigh. "This will be his first test, Warren. Use your PI." The challenge came through loud and clear.

'God, Ztar, don't screw this up,' Warren prayed silently. "He won't betray us."

"He will not betray _you_. _That_ is your belief. We will eventually learn if it extends to the rest of us." Her voice was hard.

"I'd like some privacy now, Volu." Warren wasn't sure if that was possible, but at least he would ask. If Volu overheard Warren's as yet unrevealed request, she would likely be livid. The reply was silence as he activated the PI to send the comm signal to Ztar.

###

"Twice you visit me in two days. I cannot say I am surprised."

Den-neer took a seat at the broker's ostentatious desk without invitation. It was only a short while ago that Archangel and the female had left Tider's shop. "Then my request to purchase the information you obtained from them should be equally expected."

Tider perused the shelves of U'larr artifacts slowly, reaching out to one to reposition it all of a finger's width. "Better," he said to no one and continued examining his treasurers. "I could buy a Starstreaker with what the information is worth," the broker mused.

Den-neer instantly recognized the name of the luxury class starship, as would most anyone who knew anything about civilian space vessels. Only the wealthiest individuals or a prosperous business could afford such an extravagance. "What they provided must be exceptional."

Tider turned his face to Den-neer briefly. "Rare and desirable. Something many have been seeking for a long time." His attention returned to the artifacts.

"I am interested in purchasing whatever knowledge you gained from them, but before a price can be set, the nature of the commodity must be revealed. Do not dance with me too long, Tider. I have limited patience today." While killing the three men in the alley didn't bother Den-neer, the amateurish mistake by the winged pair irritated him. He did not appreciate being pushed into action because of someone else's incompetence.

Tider stiffened, but did as Den-neer hoped, stopped the fastidious examination of his trinkets and approached the desk. "In a hurry today?" the Ptakan queried as he took his seat.

He was. A comm to Phai was needed concerning the alley encounter. As he snuffed out the lives of the three would-be kidnappers, he read them…ordinary ex military freelancers who knew nothing of consequence, including the identity of their true employer. The lure of significant credits had driven their decision to accept the assignment, and thus they stepped unwittingly into a game they were ill equipped to survive. Den-neer almost felt sorry for the men. The question was who had orchestrated the operation? Dark Ones operatives were typically shrewder than the alley trio leading Den-neer to suspect the Etagllot were behind the attempt. If his instincts were right, someone in that organization had gotten word from Jandur on the pair's next destination. And if indeed Etagllot were behind the alley incident, it was an unauthorized side attempt to retake Archangel. He sighed internally. Sometimes that organization was an annoyance.

"Today, yes." Den-neer admitted.

"Then, to the transaction. I have proof that Eshaaru still live among us – cleverly hidden, but very much alive. To many, that proof is nearly priceless. On the open market, I'd say worth a Starstreaker Victory most assuredly," the man began negotiations with a sly smile.

Den-neer shook his head slowly. "Perhaps not top of the line, but an entry level model. Starstreaker Alliant seems more appropriate."

Tider drew a talon along the edge of his carved desk. "The information is exceptional. It would send shockwaves through the Empire and Commonwealth if publicly revealed. Eshaaru, Esserru, Metzi, Ethra, Serafim, or whatever you wish to call their many incarnations…belief in them is powerful."

He considered simply paying the man's price and being done with it. Their organization had vast resources. It wasn't the price, it was the principle of the matter. Never pay more than something is worth. While proof of living Eshaaru would be a spectacular revelation for many, others had known for hundreds of years that a few still roamed the trient. But Tider did not know that, or least he shouldn't.

"I agree with you to a point, but the information cannot be widely revealed as you fully understand. Only a select group of potential buyers qualify for or can afford such knowledge. I am here with a valid offer, credits at the ready. State your opening price."

Tider studied Den-neer for a moment before speaking. "8,000,000 credits."

The opening price was steep – too steep. "4,000,000."

Tider leaned back with dramatic flare. "Do not offend me! 7.5"

"There is nothing personal in these negotiations, broker," Den-neer replied coolly. Sometimes the Ptakan could be a little sensitive. "5."

"7 and that's my final offer." The man's expression took on determined firmness. Den-neer had seen it before. Tider believed completely that his information was worth that much. Den-neer needed to rattle that confidence.

"Who do you see as my rivals for this information? Etagllot? Dark Ones? Those come to mind first as having sufficient resources to meet your price."

"There are a several Seekers with significant wealth I know would pay the price willingly."

Den-neer had a choice to make – tell Tider something his superiors may not want the man to know or bully his way through the rest of the negotiations risking whatever feeble trust Tider had in Den-neer as a valuable source. Den-neer did not wish to lose Tider as a cooperative tool.

"The people I represent will not allow them to have it," Den-neer said matter-of-factly. It was truth. Certain things were not to be known beyond those who already possessed the knowledge.

The Ptakan's eyes narrowed and Den-neer guessed at what was going through his mind. Tider did not know to whom Den-neer reported, but he knew they were powerful. Too powerful to anger. Tider's delicate balance between being too useful to kill and being too knowledgeable to let live required precision. One false move and he tipped to the side of becoming an intolerable liability.

"If I'm to believe that only the major players are in this round of the game, how does that change my asking price?"

"What you could get on the open market does not translate to a closed market. Supply and demand. The knowledge you hold so valuable is worth little to the remaining bidders. They already have that commodity."

Tider caught on quickly to what Den-neer was implying – the telepath could see it in the man's eyes. Den-neer had told him to take the male visitor at face value and that the female wasn't as she appeared. That meant but one thing in retrospect, Den-neer knew the pair was Eshaaru. And if Den-neer knew, likely all the prime players knew. Tider's "priceless" information was indeed worthless to the remaining potential buyers.

"If I cannot sell to Seekers or any other searchers and my intel is worthless to those I _can_ sell to, why are you bartering at all?"

"The value lies in its nondisclosure. For that, you deserve fair compensation. Those I represent are just."

That surprised the Ptakan, but it also raised suspicions. "If I accept compensation, is that the end of the matter or does it come with other obligations?"

Den-neer shook his head firmly once. "No obligations beyond that the information is no longer available for purchase. You have knowledge worth 5 million credits, no more, on an open market. That is what you will receive. My organization is whole in that the intel goes no further. You are whole with a much-improved financial position. Accept my offer, Tider, it is the best for all concerned," he suggested in a tone devoid of emotion.

It is not often Den-neer saw a shiver pass through the Ptakan. That day he did.

"I accept." Tider opened a drawer and pulled out two devices – a credit terminal and a memory chip. Upon completion of the credit transfer, Tider handed over the chip holding the recording of the Eshaaru revealing herself.

"Here is the evidence. Please review to ensure you are satisfied with your purchase."

Instead of pulling out his PI, Den-neer slipped the memory device into his pocket. Tider's crest rose slightly.

"I trust your integrity," Den-neer explained. He needn't tell Tider what would happen if betrayal were discovered.

Their business complete, Den-neer left the broker's store. The area just down the street was filled with security personnel, vehicles, and law enforcement. The three bodies in the alley would be the talk of the neighborhood for some time. Scanning the investigators, he confirmed they had found little beyond the dead bodies. Murder without any weapon or evidence would baffle Im officials for a long time.

Lookouts for the three would-be kidnappers had fled the area once they woke from Den-neer's mindblast – they hadn't been worth effort beyond that. He did not kill wantonly and had seen no justification to increase the death count. Three dead operatives would send the message quite effectively regardless of who was behind the attempted abduction – Archangel and the female were spoken for. The telepathic telekinetic preceded down the street in the opposite direction pleased with the day's work.

###

"Wrap up the zcene. We have all there iz 'o find, which iz nearly nothing," the lead investigator Pkzukr grumbled to his team.

The officer surveyed the crime scene one final time when he spied a bit of white peeking over the ledge of a second floor alley window. He could have sworn it wasn't there earlier. Just then, a gust of wind dislodged the object and it floated gently to the alley pavement. Down on a flattish knee, he examined delicate item. Long, graceful, obviously lightweight, the mysterious object was white, had a narrow shaft that ran down its center, and a thin membrane of sorts expanding out from either side of the shaft running nearly end to end. 'Interesting,' the Tchuk noted, having never seen anything like it before. 'Could finally be some evidence.' He called over one of the forensic team who was about ready to leave.

"Zomething here for analysis," he said rising. "Then we're done."

###

"Volu, do you know what a Zaiyoth is?" Ettwanae asked after everyone had dispersed.

"That is a very ancient term, Ettwanae. Where did you hear it?"

"From the one who stopped the men in the alley. He called us Zaiyoth. What does it mean?"

"It is the name a long-dead people gave to the Eshaaru."

Ettwanae was stunned. "No question then – he knows what we are." She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around slender legs. Her heart sank and her wings moved forward without conscious thought for form a partial cocoon. "If he knows, how many others do?"

"Ettwanae, is it possible that man was _him_?"

Volu needn't say more than that. "I don't know. The voice…it could have been his, but…" She tried hearing his words in her head, comparing the voice in the alley to the one from when she was kidnapped, but couldn't be certain. "But if it was him and he wants both of us, why did he let us go? We were vulnerable – it would have been easy!"

"Perhaps it was not him."

Ettwanae sighed deeply under the weight of her troubles. "I don't know which I'd rather it be – him and he let us go for mysterious reasons or a new threat." She hugged her legs tighter.

###

Within moments of the signal leaving Warren's PI, Ztar answered. The Turzent's face showed both concern and happiness. "Archangel! I didn't expect to hear from you so soon, but am delighted. Are you well? What have you been doing? Where are you?"

Warren smiled broadly at Ztar's rapid-fire questions. "Good to see you too, Emperor. Yes, I am well and safe." He did not answer the other questions.

"And your shipmates, they are well, too? The Esserru?" The last word was almost whispered.

"There is only one, Ztar, and she is fine, as are my other shipmates."

Ztar raised his eyebrows. "She?" he asked using a tone to imply meaning beyond confirmation of gender.

"Yes, she." Warren chuckled, but he'd not provide Ztar what he was fishing for – not yet anyway. "Do you have a few minutes or did I call at a bad time?"

"Archangel, there will never be a bad time for you to comm. Remember that." Ztar's voice was firm.

"Then I need to take you up on your offer of help."

The Emperor leaned closer to his PI. "Whatever you need."

Warren felt a little awkward. After all, he had a shitload of money in his own right. "Well, I need funds. We are running low on supplies."

Ztar was greatly surprised. Esserrus needing money? The very idea was so…pedestrian. He shook it off. "Imperial credits work anywhere in the Empire. How much do you need?"

Warren hadn't a clue. Not once in his six years with Ztar had he needed money and therefore, he had no idea as to what things cost in the Turzent Empire. "God, Ztar, I don't know. What does it take to restock a ship's stores?"

A frown crossed the imperial face. "I must admit, I haven't known the price of goods for many years. Perhaps I need to discuss this with Yramma e'Troz."

That got Warren worried. "I'm not sure we should bring the finance minister into this."

"That may be the best, though. He is royal court and can be trusted, if that is your concern. Yramma could establish an Imperial account for you. Then you could buy goods wherever you travel in the Empire."

"The idea holds appeal…"

The more Ztar considered it, the more it made sense. But what had happened to the Human's personal fortune. "Archangel, all is well with your finances on Earth?"

"Nothing to worry about there, Ztar. It's just a long way from here and we wish to restock immediately. Traveling to Earth and back isn't what we want to do."

"Then the interstellar banking system is the fastest and easiest way to get you the funds."

"I can assume the system is fully secure." It was more a statement than question, but given the resources available to their enemies…

The Turzent tipped his head slightly at the question to which the answer seemed self-evident. "Of course, Archangel. Hundreds of billions of people depend on its security and reliability every day."

An idea came to Warren. "Ztar, is there a way for me to have an alias? Must I used by own name?"

Ztar became instantly concerned. "Archangel, are you in danger? Is the Etagllot following you?"

Warren shook his head. "Not any more so than on Earth. I just don't want to leave a trail – just in case."

Ztar's chest tightened with renewed worry over his former lover. Where the Etagllot was concerned, he would never assume any system was safe. A false account identity might help mask Archangel's movements if anyone should break into the incredibly secure Imperial banking system to follow his account activity locations. Military Intelligence would be the answer for the situation. "I'll contact Gtar-Cro immediately and have him work with Yramma on an account in alias. The General may have other suggestions as well."

"If this is feasible, how long will everything take?"

"Not long. I'll comm you when the arrangements are complete."

Warren was growing more uneasy. Too many people were being brought into the situation. That very scenario was likely Volu's concern. But how to get around it? "Ztar, are there other options?"

Ztar's face reflected his consideration of alternatives. "We _could_ provide you a LinCreds card that has a certain value attached, but we'd have to physically get that to you. And once those funds are exhausted, it would need to be replenished." Then Ztar's eyes brightened. "Perhaps we could meet at a convenient location and I could hand you the card personally!"

'Sounds like a prepaid credit card,' Warren concluded. 'Could be a more palatable solution to Volu and Ettwanae, but a rendezvous? That will not go over well with my shipmates.' He almost hated to shoot down Ztar's idea – the man looked so hopeful. "I'd have to run that by the people here, Ztar, but my belief is that they will object to meeting."

Disappointment quickly overtook excitement. "I understand. We can always arrange for the card to be waiting at any location you desire. We have your bio-sig on file – that's how the LinCreds' built in security system works."

"That is a better idea. We're headed to Thael for supplies."

"I'm familiar with that world. Let me check something quickly." Ztar brought up the vital statistics on the planet on his PI, which overlaid his image on Warren's end. "The primary port is Nuunce." The overlay switched to a visual of the planet from space, then zoomed in to a metropolitan area. A massive complex came into focus, where large shuttles and other craft were clustered. Surrounding the largest building were expansive areas of pavement. 'Looks like a major airport,' Warren commented silently.

"This is Nuunce Entry Port. We could have the LinCreds card waiting for you there."

Ztar wasn't naïve. He likely surmised the Eshaaru ship would not use standard port procedures. Was he fishing for information? "Let's pick a supply house near the outskirts of Nuunce if possible and have the card waiting there."

Over the next several minutes, they worked out the details. The LinCreds card would be delivered and held for them at a supply house located near the port at the edge of the Nuunce. The beauty of the card was its funding was anonymous – nothing to tie Warren back to Ztar or the Court. As opposed to standard transactions, a card purchase was like cash. Not as secure as traditional credit transfer transaction with all its built-in security protocols and protections, Warren learned. The appeal of a LinCreds lie in that they untethered the carrier from imperial credit terminals – advantageous in remote regions or with merchants and others who preferred to deal in "cash only" to avoid fees associated with the massive Imperial financial system. The downside – when the card was exhausted, it had to be reloaded and if he lost the card, his funds were gone.

'One favor down, one more to go,' he reminded himself. "Ztar, I have another request. This one may be a little tricky."

"I meant what I said – anything you need."

"I need an MI operative to go to Tchutchka Centrus and make a purchase from a man named Tider." Ztar's eyebrows shot up at the unusual request. Warren went on to explain as briefly as possible what needed to be done. "Have the operative purchase the proof that Eshaaru still live. Tider said he'd offer that information only once. We must move quickly or the information may be bought out from under us. Send someone we have complete trust in to keep the secret." Warren toyed with asking Ztar to keep Gtar-Cro in the dark and have the operative report directly to Ztar, but decided to let Ztar handle it. After all, the man vowed he'd tell no one about the Eshaaru – not even Gtar-Cro.

"As soon as we finish, I'll dispatch someone. I will do whatever is necessary to secure that knowledge."

"The purchase may expensive, Ztar."

"Price is a non-issue, Archangel. We will make the purchase and ensure the knowledge will not be resold."

Warren was immediately concerned with how far Ztar would go. "Tider plays an important role – he needs to remain in business, Ztar."

"If you ask that Tider remains operational, then it will be so, but Tider's kind are not often honorable. If the knowledge must remain hidden…" The Turzent did not need to complete the thought.

"I think we can trust Tider on this – he values his reputation highly as it keeps him in business." Warren chuckled silently at how that sounded. 'More like keeps him alive.' Then Warren gave Ztar his best appreciative smile. "Thank you, Ztar. You are a true friend." Warren made certain his voice also reflected how truly grateful he was and the Turzent gazed at him warmly in return.

"I would do anything for you." Then Ztar's eyes turned misty. "I will always love you…always be here for you." How he wished Archangel were still at his side.

Despite himself, Warren felt yearnings rise as Ztar held his eyes through the comlink with that old look. It spoke of longing, desire, and love. Now Warren had a reason for why he felt so connected with Ztar – their Ura bond. He permitted himself to be overtaken by the feelings for a moment, allowing memories of contentment and blinding passion within Ztar's arms coalesce.

"Same here, Ztar," he reciprocated quietly, then chastised himself – there was no guarantee Volu wasn't eavesdropping.

Ztar did not speak for many heartbeats, searching Warren's face with a puzzled look. 'Probably threw him with that one,' Warren admitted. It gave him an odd sort of delight that he'd left the man speechless. Warren decided to break the silence. "We'll be at Thael in a few days to pick up the package. Thanks, again. I should go now."

Warren clicked off the PI and realized his hand was trembling. Did just the sight of his former lover do that? 'Ura bonding is easily stirred,' he surmised sarcastically. 'So is something else,' Warren cringed realizing his body had reacted with old responses in other ways as well. Seeing Ztar after living with Ettwanae's consent temptation seemed like cruel and unusual punishment. It was a reminder of what he couldn't have with her.

He wanted to push aside the blissful memories and the longings they held, but then again not. Ztar's caresses and kisses, the man's lips brushing across his feathers, fingers that skillfully combed through his wings, the feel of Ztar within him. Warren shuddered with need, wings spreading behind him in remembered delights.

'Stop it!' he yelled in his mind. 'You're torturing yourself.' And he pulled himself forcibly away from the recollections and stood up. He might just need to use Flint's shower again. Drawing his wings close to form a cocoon, he slowed his breathing and focused on that. That tranquil place in his mind took over and he calmed. 'That's better.' He opened the feathery wrap. 'Not sure about this new emotional rollercoaster ride.'

"Volu, set a course for Thael. We're ready to depart whenever you are."

"With pleasure, Warren. All went well with the Emperor?"

He detected no signs of irritation or anger in the Eshaar'ne that would give away any eavesdropping on his conversation with Ztar, much to his relief.

"It did."

Then Warren left his room to inform the others about their soon-to-be improved balance sheet.

###

_A/N: Not 100% certain how long the next chapter will be. Torn between keeping the next few segments separate and combining them. We'll see how I feel during the final proofing. At a minimum, Warren and Ettwanae risk stirring up Aru to spend some time getting to know one another better. _

_So thrilled to see the number of readers for this story continue to grow! You could really make me smile by posting a review to let me know what you like / dislike. Don't be shy – even a few words would make my day. Whether you do or don't review, know that I sincerely appreciate the interest and the time commitment involved in reading a novel. _

_Until next chapter…_


	26. Chapter 25

_A/N: Okay, this was another one of those chapters I had thought was mostly ready for posting, but while rereading it for the final edits, decided significant revisions were necessary. _

_Within this installment, another entity comes briefly to light, Warren and Ettwanae play a version of Getting to Know You, and even more is exposed about the Shozen and Elder Phai. _

**Chapter 25**

Kynkz provided details on all she had observed about the Sat'reyan female, male of unknown species, and tidbits Tider had thrown her way. The Ptakan had seemed especially excited about whatever it was he'd gained from the pair and was more talkative than usual. Kynkz had used that to her advantage.

"You did well," the figure before her said in a slippery voice. That was the only word she had to describe it, but the praise filled her with pride.

"I wiz only 'o zerve," she replied with a slight bow of her flat head. They had met in their usual place, blocks from Tider's shop in a back alcove. She would do whatever was required by the one who was an agent of Orzra, god of all that is, was, and will be. Long ago, she'd seen the signs, recognized the symbols. This being who could stand before Orzra had chosen her as his helper. Kynkz was humbled by the honor.

"Your reward awaits when he comes. Orzra is pleased." The words were punctuated with odd gestures from two of the being's four gloved hands.

Her heart overflowed with happiness. Suddenly, a shaft of late afternoon light broke through the surrounding cityscape and caught the face always shrouded by a hooded cloak. The eyes were pools of blackness that seemed to drink in her very soul and she couldn't help but shudder. Its skin was swirls of deepest ebony against a rich golden brown. She saw chiseled features – a large nose and strong jaw. Kynkz believed she saw an ever so slight smile at the corners of the agent's mouth. More than that was lost to folds of cloth.

She bowed deeply and when she upturned her eyes, it was gone.

###

"What's Twenty Questions?" she asked from her corner of the bay. It was the furthest she could be from him, yet still in the same room.

"Well, it's not really the official game, but it's a question/answer spin-off. We take turns asking questions to learn more about the other person. First, you ask me a question and I answer, then vice versa. One question per turn – no more." He was smiling one of his mischievous grins and it made her insides flutter.

"Sounds fun!" Ettwanae drew her feet up to sit crossed-legged on the stow bin turned perch.

When Warren agreed to spend a little time getting to know each other, Ettwanae had been thrilled. She so wanted to know all there was about her intended soulbound, but hopes of long, intimate conversations had yet not materialized. Aru was a wedge between them. Ironic. Fighting that force of nature was constant and draining and she could already see the strain on his face. It'd been two days since Tchutchka Centrus and the Aru-driven need to copulate was dozing. Volu had said the instinctual drive would ebb and flow, but warned any respite would be temporary and Aru easily roused. And so they had chosen to sit with ample distance between them as proximity tended to stir Aru. She set worries of that aside for the moment and leaned forward in anticipation. She was going to enjoy any time they could spend together. Of course, it'd be so much better if they could be seated next to one another, but she'd take what she could get – far better than Warren isolating himself in his room or the bowels of Volu.

"You first," she offered.

"Where were you born?"

"On my parent's Eshaar'ne. I don't know where they were at the time, though. And you?"

"In New York State – that's like a territory in a country called United States of America. May I ask how old you are?"

"Yes." She smiled slyly. This was a good game. "And _your_ age in imperial standard years?"

Warren chuckled catching her sidestep. "Roughly 25. And your age would be…?"

"Twenty-three imperial standard years." She watched his eyebrows furrow for a moment as he looked down. 'What's he thinking?'

"That'd be about 26 in Earth years. It's roughly a 1 to 1.15 ratio…imperial standard to Earth year," he explained.

'Calculating in his head,' she noted, reassured he wasn't judging her age as unacceptable. "Is 26 a good age on Earth?" she asked to be certain.

"It's perfect."

The smile sent her way caused a wing to quiver. "How long do people live-?"

He cut her off with a halt gesture and a sly grin. "Uh-uh, my turn."

She jerked – his turn again just like that. In this game, you had to guard your tongue. Ettwanae narrowed her eyes. "I'm going to have watch my nareses with you!"

His eyebrows went up. "Your what?"

"Nareses – a form of credits from the olden days on Sat'rey. Nares was a token that could be exchanged for goods."

"Money – like on Earth. We still use paper and coin money in addition to a form of credits like the Empire. So the saying means to watch your money around me…because I'm crafty, untrustworthy, or what?"

"Out of turn!" she scolded with delight and a single clap of her hands. "Penalty award to Ettwanae."

It was his turn to jerk. "I don't think it's me that has to be watched!" He laughed. "Ask your question."

"What is your favorite place to visit and why?" She'd keep the questions light for now, but was forming a plan of where she wanted the game to go.

"The mountains. Love them to the depths of my soul. There's just something about their wildness and majesty that speaks to me. Soaring with the eagles is something I never tire of."

His eyes had turned dreamy at whatever memories and feelings the reply conjured. A slight pang twisted within her. 'Does he regret giving up freedom of the skies already?' she wondered. 'Will he be able to cope with life in space?' Then his voice sliced through the worries.

"My turn." Warren paused, seeming hesitant to ask his question. "If it's not too painful, what was life like for you growing up?"

She clasped her hands tight. Thinking of Bhenra was bittersweet. "It was a good life, Warren. Bhenra was a wonderful father – Baumpa – to me. He was a professor of antiquities until he retired to open his shop in Yaunra. That was before I was brought to him. The shop provided well for us, but we weren't wealthy. Bhenra took good care of me, did his best to protect me, while helping me embrace who I was beneath the cloak. In one way, it was hard pretending to be what I wasn't, but in another it wasn't – I grew up posing as Sat'reyan – I really didn't know any other way. He'd take me for trips to the country and there I honed by flight skills. When my need became too great, we'd go. He never complained about it being inconvenient or a bother. Baumpa always worried though – I could see it in his eyes. When I got older, I use to slip out into the night sky after he went to sleep. For a long time I believed he didn't know, but then I realized he did – just didn't say anything. Parents are like that sometimes, I think – they know what their children believe they are so cleverly keeping secret." That brought a smile to her face. Her dearest Baumpa had let her have her deception. Warren nodded in agreement with the observation.

"Shop life was wonderful. Besides meeting people from all over the Empire, I loved being surrounding by old things...the antiques and ancient artifacts. Each had seen so much and told a story if you cared to listen." She chuckled lightly. "I know that sounds strange, but it's true. Like I told the attendant in Tider's shop – Bhenra would select an object and we'd sit together at night, and he'd tell me what it had could have seen during its long existence…the people, their way of life, and how that changed through the long years. I was mesmerized." The pain of loss welled up and she shuddered on the inside. "Those are cherished memories. I miss him greatly." She loved the way Warren watched her and the gentle look of empathy. "My turn. What did you do as an X-man?"

"Fought bad guys."

The answer was too short and she was disappointed, but then Warren appeared to have caught that and continued.

"The last few years I wasn't an active member meaning I didn't go on missions…didn't fight." At her puzzled look, he elaborated about the group's role in curtailing mutants bent on supremacy over non-mutant Humans. The situated he described sounded so frightening – one genus divided by genetics into two separate species, each trying to dominate rather than live in peaceful co-existence. But the X-men's leader, a Professor, believed that the two could live side-by-side harmoniously and Warren's group fought years for that dream. From what he said, the dream seemed to be out of reach due to fear and hatred. "So sad, Warren. No matter whether mutant or non-mutant, Humans are a single people. That's how the rest of the Empire will view and judge you. You will all be known as Earthlings – that will be your communized species name once Earth fully joins the Empire."

"Commonized name?"

"Yes. When a world joins the Empire, whatever the inhabitants call themselves is discarded. The old Ta'oc Empire standardized species names to simplify identification. A species is referred to by the planet or star system of their origin. For example, the people from Ozjaer who had previously referred to themselves as Anthe, became known as Ozjaerians. It wasn't voluntary – still isn't from what I know. After Ztar overthrew the Ta'oc government, he continued the tradition."

Warren nodded. "I remember reading about that now. Ztar also changed the name of the Ta'oc Empire to the Turzent Empire as Turzent was the communized name for his own species, which had originated on Turzen."

Ettwanae gestured agreement. "That's right. Turzen is the homeworld for the Emperor's species and a planet within the Ta'oc star system – that's where the old empire got its name." The game was drifting beyond the intent. Species names and imperial history weren't what interested Ettwanae and she would get things back on track. "And now Turzent has come to be the name for all imperial citizens – almost generic. My turn again," she smirked. His eyes twinkled at her.

Ettwanae pondered while examining his face, taking in every nuance of expression and feature. He was so handsomely beautiful – masculine, yet a delicateness to his features that hinted of feminine. A perfect blending of the best of both genders she felt…sensual and alluring…just as the U'larr had desired for their creation. 'If only…' she sighed as visions came of what she'd like to do with that sensual body. Did he feel anything close to the same about her? Then she snapped herself back to the game when Warren cleared his throat, giving her an odd look. "Who is Warren Worthington, also called Archangel?" It was a good question she felt and waited anxiously for his response.

"Oh, boy…not easy question." He shifted uncomfortably in her opinion and she immediately wondered why. "Let's see – he is the only offspring of the filthy rich family, inheritor of a multi-national corporation, a former X-man…sometimes hero and one-time harbinger of death. Oh, and board president of his own charitable foundation." The same look of concentration from before crossed the perfect face once again. Ettwanae waited for the rest of his reply, sensing emotions bubbling beneath the surface. "Let's see…he's a man of few close friends but adversary of many, a card-carrying loser in the personal relationship department, someone who searched years for direction in his life and drifted here and there, never finding a place to land for long until a year ago or so." A deep sigh escaped him and the blue eyes darkened.

"The famous Angel turned Archangel has not always been in control of his own destiny and used in too many people's twisted plans and it nearly-" She could see him swallow hard. Empathic pain welled up as a wave of hurt washed over her from him. "It nearly destroyed him." He paused, taking a deep breath, then conjured a half-smile. "Sorry – didn't mean…" he apologized with a shake of his head. "Archangel was a survivor, though, and allowed me to finally focus on Warren after years of living in the shadow of a moniker." Then he seemed to collect himself and laughed uncomfortably. "Warren Kenneth Worthington the Third is Earth's direct link to Emperor Ztar, bigwig businessman, financial lifeline for the X men, and a man in search of his miracle cure." He crossed his arms, leaned back against the bay wall, and searched her face for several seconds. "That pretty much sums up my current existence," he concluded.

It was a lot to take in. Warren was a complex mix of different personas and life paths. Emotional wounds were there as well. Something or someone had hurt him more than once in the past and she felt protectiveness rise up. 'If anyone tries to hurt you again, they will regret it dearly,' she vowed to him silently. And his claim of being loser in relationships tugged equally at her heart. Then something puzzling jumped to the forefront – he had defined himself by the roles he held in life. Little of _who_ he was, only _what_ he was. She wanted to know Warren, not so much his occupations. 'Perhaps another day,' she decided not wanting to push too hard into perhaps tender areas.

"My turn. Same question."

She was expecting that. How did she define herself? Quite differently than Warren. As with Warren, she feared emotions would rise up at the telling and bring tears. Perhaps his third-person technique would help. After gathering her thoughts, she began. "Ettwanae is someone who is searching…for her past, her people, and her future. She is sometimes brave, sometimes daring…often…afraid." At his raised eyebrows, she expanded the thought realizing she was afraid a lot. "Afraid of being alone or left behind, and of losing her freedom or getting her friends killed, or worse." She shook her head at that. The mere thought of any of them ending up back in an Etagllot lab was her definition of a fate worse than death. "She is sometimes uncertain, but always hopeful." She straightened up, bracing herself for where she would tread next. "Most of all, Ettwanae seeks someone to share her life with, someone to complete her. She could face anything if that someone was at her side."

The "game" was evolving into a baring of souls. Was it too much? Would he feel she was pushing? Yet she so desperately wanted Warren to be her someone. She couldn't quite read the expression that crossed his face and she instantly regretted the words. The harshness of his early warning about using her for his purposes replayed in her mind. She quickly asked her next question – something far safer. "What's your favorite color?"

He literally burst out laughing. Ettwanae was mortified. "What did I do? Did I say something wrong?"

Warren reined in the outburst and waved his hands in a gesture she didn't understand. "No, no, sorry. It's just…cliché on my world. Struck my funny bone that another species would think to ask the same, very neutral, ever-so-safe question. Quite the contrast from your last inquiry."

She still wasn't certain how asking about someone's color preferences could illicit riotous laughter, but she did want to know. Crossing her arms and doing her best to look determined, she held to it. "I asked a legitimate question and am waiting for your response, or do I get another penalty award?"

He gave her a stern look, but his eyes danced with mirth. "What's with this penalty award business? I never said anything about penalties."

She snickered. "My ship, my rules." Then her own laughter wouldn't be denied. He joined in quickly.

"Another very American expression. Are you certain you're not Human? Maybe your image inducer only makes you appear Eshaaru," he teased.

Feeling feisty with the taunt, she jumped off the tub. "Very certain. Pure Eshaaru." She took two tentative steps forward and stood tall, filling her demeanor with pride and spreading her wings in show. "Daughter and sole descendant of T'Qilla and T'Azrued. Born of Gathers to Etxan'Ir. I am Ettwanae and my name means Hope of the Life Source." She gave him a superior look that begged to be challenged and was rewarded with a smile that seemed to light up the bay.

"And I am full-blood Human," he retorted leaving his perch. "Son of Warren and Kathryn. Born to the Worthington fortune and name. I am Warren Kenneth Worthington the Third and my name means money." He chuckled at the spiel.

It'd be so easy to fall into his arms and laugh with him. To hug him, kiss those lips, caress that incredible body... Her legs carried her toward him of their own accord, longing building. Wariness quickly replaced amusement on his face as he took a step backward, bumping into the crate.

"Ettwanae, I don't think we should-"

He got no further than that when she found herself inches from him. "Kiss me, Human," a strange voice commanded – a voice she didn't recognize coming from her own mouth. It was startling, but didn't stop her from bringing their faces together, lips nearly brushing – their breath warm upon each other's mouth. Lips parted, her head tilted just a bit, they touched…

'Stop this minute, Ettwanae!' she scolded herself abruptly and pulled back. "Oh, goddess! I'm sorry, Warren. We- we can't… I didn't mean…" The words tumbled out as she backed away and turned from him to make a hasty exit fearing Aru's power. Then she felt his arms slide around her from behind, wrapping around her abdomen. She moaned softly.

"The need has eased. Perhaps we can share a hug without losing control," he whispered into her ear, his cheek pressed against her head.

She leaned into him, closed her eyes, and melted. Ettwanae was exactly where she belonged. It felt so…so… The perfect word escaped her. He sighed into her hair and they stood there; for how long she didn't know. She rubbed his arm, and he took her other hand into his and entwined their fingers. Opening her eyes, she gazed at their hands. The fit was exact.

"See Warren? Our hands are made for each other. We are two halves that make a whole." Then the fire began down there, radiating out in an odd blend of ache and bliss. She gently pulled his arms from around her and turned to face him. "I need to go now," she told him as much as she didn't want to.

He nodded understandingly. His pupils were large, telling her he was also feeling the rising heat. With a heavy heart, she left her other half standing alone.

###

Warren was torn as he watched her return to the upper deck. While he felt good about learning a little more about the woman to whom he felt an intense physical attraction – and yes, if he admitted, the pull was more than physical – he was troubled by yet again being the object of someone's intense need. 'Been there, done that. Not sure about a repeat.' Ztar had taught him a lesson – coveting is a powerful driver. It can cause you to do things you'd ordinarily find unthinkable. Intense, unfulfilled need can devour all your morals and cast aside your ethical inhibitors. While Ettwanae didn't come across as being nearly as needy as Ztar, signs were there. How needful of him would she become under their circumstances? He scooted back atop his crate.

And she had hurts, much like Ztar. Old and deep wounds that perhaps dominated current behavior. Abandonment as a child, left to be raised by a stranger. Reasons don't matter. Abandonment is abandonment regardless that her mother was trying to save her. T'Qilla hadn't returned for her daughter and Ettwanae's pain went deep. A lost mother, a lost surrogate father, a lost race. How would she react if Warren decided to leave as well?

A sigh that originated from the depths of his soul escaped. 'Another wonderful situation you've stepped into, flyboy. Can't life be uncomplicated just once?' Yet, there were positives. She was intelligent, witty, fun, and, yes, incredibly beautiful. She was like him – winged and happily so. They'd have beautiful children… 'Wait a minute – where'd _that_ thought come from?' he started in surprise. 'Still, when you returned to Earth a year ago that was something you wanted to pursue. First, though, a lifemate. A partner, kindred spirit, in a lasting relationship. Perhaps she's it. Remember how it feels with her in your arms?' Another sigh, another pondering shake of the head. 'Life just doesn't give me any breaks.'

Drawing knees up and pulling wings around, he enveloped himself in their protective wrap. The feeling was soothing, peaceful…isolating. Thank god, they had returned to him. His precious, feathery appendages that had given him his greatest joys and had been the source of his worst nightmares. Ettwanae hadn't been through the lost of her wings, the agony of evil replacements, and the horror of realizing you'd sold your soul to regain the joy of flight only to realize too late it was his soul that infused the wings with joy, not the other way around.

From the little he knew, Ettwanae was untainted – she hadn't walked through hell and back, hadn't had her wounded soul tortured, tormented, and nearly extinguished. He had. Not once, but twice. First Apocalypse, then by Ztar in the early years. Ettwanae wasn't all that much younger in Earth-years, yet he felt far older. Even in their brief time together, the difference in their life experience showed. She'd live a relatively carefree life with Bhenra while he had been a warrior at age 16 and had seen and done things a teenager shouldn't have to. Her essence felt freer, more optimistic, less burdened…almost innocent.

His mind floated back to their near kiss followed by the sensual embrace. Holding her close, the feel of her wings pressed against his chest, the silkiness of her hair, the smell of her. Nothing – no one – else had existed in that minute. She was all. It had been a perfect moment. Fleeting, but perfect.

Something twisted deep within him and it hurt. 'You want her, admit it. Whether or not we find her people, Etxan'Ir, or a nannite cure, you want her in your life.' Opening his wings, he slipped off the crate. 'Must be pragmatic, though. Getting rid of the nannites resolves many underlying issues and uncertainties in your life,' he reminded himself. 'Stay focused, Worthington. They're all looking to you to lead them. Getting Ettwanae in your life and bed is gravy, not the primary mission at this point.'

He started toward the lift. 'Or is it?' Just then, his stomach loudly reminded him it had been while since it had been fed. Evening mealtime was near. Instead of letting Volu raise him up, he sprang up on powerful legs and a single beat of his wings through the opening to the main living level, scaring the bejeebers out of Gatebi who was leaving the bridge.

###

The holo representation standing in her office was not pleased. The change in the status of a particularly desirable resource was not going over well. But Phai was equally perturbed by the rogue action of her subordinate.

"Prime Director, am I understanding correctly that the Human is _not_ to be pursued?" The man's question was more of an accusation.

"You are," she replied. Phai knew the Etagllot's Director of Biotechnology would not be pleased, but it didn't matter.

"We nearly had him on Tchutchka Centrus until someone interfered." Director Sident declared with indictment. "The death of our operatives appears to have been via telekinesis. Unusual. If Gtar-Cro now employs telekinetic security that is new." The holographic eyes locked onto hers. "But perhaps you already knew that."

She only gave a single nod of her head, neutrality maintained without speaking. From Prime Director Sident's narrow perspective, that would be the most logical assumption. He would assume Archangel had left Earth with imperial guards in tow.

Under Phai's interrogation, Sident explained that after the angry Jandur curator commed his Etagllot contact, a review of the museum's surveillance scanners revealed it was the desired Human who had visited. The curator told his contact the Human was destined for Tider. Arriving on the scene just as Archangel and his travel companion entered the broker's premises, Etagllot operatives waited for Archangel to emerge from Tider's shop. What happened beyond that he did not know, except that the three mercenaries ended up dead.

"Acquisition of the bionites is critical to Project One. We risked much twice to obtain Archangel, and now you're telling me that he is off limits? _Why?_" The Director's tone was heated.

Phai was unaffected by the outburst. "What would you be doing if the bionites did not exist, Director? They are a fortuitous shortcut that you appear to be all too eager to take."

The man was stunned. Rightly so. It was an about-face in agenda. "But Prime Director, you _yourself_ pressed the importance of that technology. You approved the extreme risk of acquiring the Human and the Turzent emperor despite some saying it couldn't be done. We risked everything then and what we feared came to be. Ztar and his underlings hunt us once again. Are you telling me it was all for _nothing_?"

She sighed. The Etagllot were a valuable tool. She didn't want to lose their presence in the Empire to Ztar's persecution a second time either. The research they performed under the guise of Project One was critical to the larger purpose, but it could be performed anywhere – it did not have to occur within Turzent space.

"Director, I understand your confusion and frustration. The bionites are important as a failsafe. If you are unsuccessful in creating the transformative quality, then we will attempt once again to unlock the technology that resides in Archangel."

The image stepped toward her. "Therefore, he should be recaptured and put into stasis at a minimum," he pleaded. "Why risk losing the technology?"

She smiled at Sident as a knowing mother would smile at a bewildered child. "Director, you are but a single arm of our organization. Your purpose is to produce certain results and remain focused on that. Do not concern yourself with the responsibilities of others. The Human and what he carries within will not be lost. Should your division need him again, he will be obtained. For now, you will cease your pursuit, is that understood?" Sometimes you needed to tell children to simply do as they are told without question or argument. From his expression, Phai had successfully reminded Sident of his place. 'Good,' she thought. Other duties beckoned and she wanted to be done.

Sident bowed slightly to his superior. Her command he would not disobey – the consequences were harsh. "Yes, Prime Director."

Phai ended the comm and mentally crossed the chore off her list that would allow the Human and Eshaaru to move with one less interference along the path chosen for them. Elder Phai then turned her attentions to their next challenge – maneuvering the other pieces into place for the coming event on Neu. Changing inputs to the holographic emitter, a three-dimension strategy tool materialized in the air beyond her desk. The imagery allowed her to track progress, assess status, and test theories. It moved to the will of her mind through a neurolink and it was how Phai worked best – visually.

The top of the display was the goal – a single point near the ceiling of her office. The bottom represented where the battle had begun thousands of years ago and before her time. She stood and began circling the display, reviewing the status and positions of various tools and participants. The relative vertical position of each represented the estimated nearness to their specific goal.

Her duty was to ensure the right players made it to the top. A monumental task when most of those in the complex game didn't know they were participants or even that a very serious competition was afoot. Secrecy was tantamount. Obscurity imperative. If others knew their moves, then so would the enemy.

She pulled focus back to the summation of hundreds of years of her delicate maneuverings suspended in front of her. The thinnest of threads ran between many of the points on the holograph representing links of various forms. Other symbols indicated obstacles that must be removed. And still more points reminded of interim goals yet to be realized.

Phai reached with her mind to make the latest adjustment to the image. One obstacle hovered above the so called Human and the Eshaaru winked out. The thread joining the two she thickened, indicating close association. Once the two became a bonded pair, she would change the thread to the same color as their points of light. That would not happen without Ztar's death. "For now, my two Eshaaru, you must endure and push forward. Much rides on your success," she spoke to the three-dimensional tracker board.

Her eyes followed another thread coming off Archangel's point to Ztar. Phai smiled as feelings of achievement came with the Emperor's symbol. Multiple achievements, in fact. The lone, betrayed soldier risen up to become a conqueror who built an empire out of a hodgepodge of warring systems, shifting alliances, and plundered then forgotten worlds. She had argued vehemently that Ztar represented the uniting force needed, not the Commonwealth. While others saw a ruthless conqueror who may one day prove too unstable to be useful, she had seen promise. He just needed the right motivation to grow past the violence and mature to become a leader people _wanted_ to follow and thus build an empire that systems wished to pledge their allegiance in a dangerous universe.

She took no credit for Archangel's appearance. Little attention had been given to the mutants of Earth, including those resembling the Eshaaru race. Several had been taken and tested, all proved fully Human. A wild coincidence in a universe filled with such occurrences. Then Ztar took one such winged man for his own and the one known as Archangel began piquing their interest. The more they learned, the more they wished to know. First the nannites, then the secondary lifeforce pattern, and finally the manifested energy. The rest…well, the rest was history. Ztar changed under the influence of the Human who was likely more than a mutated Earthling. Archangel healed Ztar's troubled soul and the Emperor was now as Phai had predicted. A leader who could unite system after system under one rule. Unification. One of the primary desiderata.

Was Archangel Eshaaru? Still no undeniable proof, though growing evidence indicated he was. 'Ary's theory of Archangel's mixed heritage _is_ intriguing. Could explain certain contradictory data,' she allowed. Her thoughts floated back to the Turzent Emperor. 'On my side of the argument is the healing of Ztar; a hallmark of extended Eshaaru exposure, especially if doused with manifested Source. Had Ztar been exposed?' If so, Ary's theory came into play once again…soul healing shouldn't take years, and Ztar's took nearly five. Could mixed genetics account for that?

Phai let her mind wander further afield. Esserru – the name meant "healer of souls" in Turzent legend. A variant of their name, Eshaaru, but even that wasn't exactly right. Their true name as given to them by their creators was Esha'Aru. Esha meaning Caretaker and Aru meant Lifeforce. Healer of Souls…Caretaker of Lifeforce. Close enough to be broadly correct. Where Aru is Life, Ura is Will; the soul. Without Ura, you get non-sentient life. With it, you get Turzents and Alcabs, Basti and Sat'reyan, Human, Minoi, Themran, Darian, Symp-Symp, Nuinyar, and the countless other sentient races spread across a galaxy teeming with intelligent beings.

Free will played a key role in many of their maneuverings, and most crucially regarding the Eshaaru. She gazed along Archangel and Ztar's previous co-travel path to one example. Ymoz was a partial disappointment. Genetic analysis of Archangel stubbornly read fully Earth origin. However, that could be a limitation of their technology in breaking through the DNA sheathing employed by the ancients. No matter the reason, they failed to confirm genetically Archangel as Eshaaru. Offsetting that disappointment was what the Etagllot scientists did discover – Archangel's lifeforce was bound to another's, a condition nearly unique to Eshaaru.

The scientists had failed to unlock the bionite programming using traditional methods and were determined to reactivate the technology. When Phai got word of that, she adjusted the plan. Transformation of a likely Eshaaru into someone else's twisted form with no guarantee of reversal would not be allowed. Phai moved into place what the captive pair needed to escape. The Turzent did not disappoint and took the tools Phai had carefully positioned and used them brilliantly. Her Den-neer made certain the escape vessel's caretaker turned off the psy-dampeners. She admitted to some tense moments during the escape, but the duo managed to outmaneuver their captors. Why the masquerade? Couldn't they have simply released the captives somewhere? Of course, but that would be puzzling to their unwitting players. No, Ztar and Archangel needed to believe they were in control of their own escape. The illusion of self-will was essential.

The Etagllot were naturally upset by the lost, but Archangel had only been loaned to them. Of course, they did not know that – from their limited perspective, Archangel was a critical component and worth any risk to obtain. With mounting evidence that the Human was actually Eshaaru, Phai changed stratagem and reclassified the bionites a failsafe. If the Etagllot could not replicate the transformative ability on their own, the Human/Eshaaru would be retaken.

And that brought Phai to more recent events. She had given the order to retake Archangel when Sident reported a roadblock his scientists could not overcome. They needed the supremely advanced bionites within the Human, he explained. And so reluctantly, Phai gave the order to reacquire Archangel and sent Den-neer to Earth. But then her favored one witnessed what could only be First Meeting of Soulbounds. That changed everything, but she needed time to convince the Council of the wisdom of allowing Archangel to remain free and on a different path with a new companion. She succeeded in her argument and issued the stop order just as Den-neer was about to take his target.

Phai sighed. 'Enough rumination indulgence,' she told herself. 'Time to work.' Elder Phai circled the holograph, analyzing positions, progress, goals, old players and new, threats, aids, obstacles and achievements. Their forces were mostly on track, but the enemy was as well in her estimation. All must be positioned correctly at the right moment in the end. How much time they had before The Dark Coming no one knew. Signs had been detected for a long time. Estimates ranged from a few dozen years to hundreds. Instinct told Phai they were running out of time more quickly than most realized. Much had to happen before then. Once it began, one of two possibilities would come to fruition – the galaxy would continue to defy with light or return to darkness.

In her opinion, the odds were dead even.

###

_A/N: Next chapter – General Gtar-Cro's report to Ztar is disconcerting. And what of the attempt by Ztar to purchase Ettwanae's secret from Tider? _

_I'm thrilled to see the number of readers that are working through Soulbound continue to go up, but it strikes me as odd that I've heard nothing in the way of reviews of late. Interesting phenomenon. Ah, well…so it goes. But if you'd like to cheer me up and perhaps give me a word of encouragement as I plow through the final edits, I'd love you for it. _


	27. Chapter 26

_A/N: I knew I wasn't entirely happy with this chapter even before starting the pre-post editing. Then when I got into it again, I rewrote sections, then rewrote again, and yet again. Still not entirely pleased, but it's far better than before the rewrites. _

_This segment: General Gtar-Cro reports troubling findings, and Volu is livid with Warren. What about? Read on…_

**Chapter 26**

The General Gtar-Cro's face filled the screen. His Turzent features held mix messages. "I have _some_ good news for you, my Emperor. The tracer is working, but only partially. Archangel's comm originated just beyond the Tchutchka Centrus system. However, as soon as he deactivated his PI, we lost the tracer signal and are uncertain as to why. Technicians are concluding it has something to do with the ship's cloak."

"I'll take whatever we can get at this point, General. Order the technicians to find a way to hold the trace."

"Already working."

He nodded. "I should not have thought otherwise, old friend."

Ztar hated betraying Archangel's trust in any manner, but when it came to the man's safety, he'd gladly face whatever future wrath may come his way to protect the precious Human. 'I will not take chances with your life, my Archangel. Even if that means breaking a promise.' But he had not shared with anyone the identity of the Human's new friends.

After Archangel's request for assistance, Ztar told Gtar-Cro only that a telepath was to be assigned to him for personal duty and quickly dispatched her to Tchutchka for the purchase from the man called Tider. The telepath would not report her activities to the General and understood Ztar would erase her memory of the knowledge gained. On that point, Ztar would uphold his vow to Archangel. He and he alone would know the Human was traveling with an Eshaaru.

"Where is our wayward court member heading next?"

"You did not listen in on the conversation?"

Mild surprise flickered in the General's dark eyes. "No, my Emperor. We traced, but did not tap into the signal. Unless you give me specific instructions to do so, conversations between you and Archangel are private."

Ztar nodded. It was as he hoped. "We are to have a LinCreds card waiting for him at Gnaza Supply House in Nuunce on Thael. Have the card there within two days with enough credits for several complete resupplies for a Jumper-class ship." Gtar-Cro raised his eyebrows, but did not question. "Now, I want a report on the Hydeera re-evaluation and the mysterious ship occurrences you mentioned before." Ztar settled back in anticipation.

Gtar-Cro explained the re-examination of the Hydeera raid data revealed no new leads on whom the cloaked ship rescued. Imperial troops involved in the landing site skirmish were too focused on the Etagllot firing on them to take in any details concerning non-combatants. Even under telepathic probing, only fuzzy recollections of bound captives fleeing the scene stuck in their minds. As the building literally came apart at the seams, life-sign readings were obscured either intentionally or as a result of cloak interference.

"And so we've nothing more than we had before?"

Gtar-Cro signaled negative. "Apologies, my Emperor."

"No apologies, General. It means your original investigation was thorough. And what of the other reports of a mysterious ship?"

"That investigation has proven to be as intriguing as finding answers has been elusive. We discovered correlations between incursion anomalies and certain unexplained deaths and other events of note. In fact, the broader our comparative parameters, the more profound the analysis became. Much of the results are deductive with no direct evidence, but there are fascinating probabilities, including events all the way back to when you were coming into power."

Ztar quickly leaned forward. "General, you have my full attention."

When Ztar clicked off his PI much later, he was deeply troubled. If what Gtar-Cro's sophisticated analysis suggested was true, then Ztar's earlier intuitive nudges were right. There may be a game afoot they were obvious to…one in which he and others were playing unwitting roles.

Tasked with solving the mystery of the cloaked Hydeera ship and the possibility of an even more elusive vessel involved in the latest kidnapping attempt, Military Intelligence reassessed all the data recorded at Hydeera and Earth. System-deployed military satellites clearly caught the Hydeera signature entering Earth atmosphere. In meticulous re-examination of those sensor logs, MI analysis experts discerned something else, something far more elusive. Data was suggestive of an object moving through atmosphere that could not be directly detected; however, its effect on the immediate surroundings could be – like an unseen object moving just beneath the water causes ripples on the surface. MI labeled the new phenomenon as the Earth signature.

Where to look next? If the Earth signature was involved in a kidnapping plot, the next logical path of investigation was to review other unexplained illicit events. The incident of Second Major Raminjen's death on Gzenra Station met the search criteria – that remained an unsolved murder of unusual method. Review of station sensor logs during the initial murder investigation revealed nothing out of the ordinary. MI techs applied the new algorithms to those logs and got a hit. Station scanners had detected an anomaly approaching the station that day, but the monitoring AI classified the barely discernable reading as spatial background noise. However, armed with the new analysis profile, MI reclassified reading as the Earth signature.

MI had confirmation they were onto something. Adding the Gzenra data to the analytical parameters, technicians cast their net far and wide. Vast numbers of sensor logs from military space stations, planetary traffic control, and imperial ships were passed through the analysis algorithms. Then the resultant hits were correlated to significant events, and things got very interesting.

Multiple incidents involving both signatures originated in Jandur airspace over the past two years. Even further back and more disconcerting were notations in old investigation records of a Hydeera-like sensor signature from Mon Genesis, the Mon people's homeworld. Intriguing timing translated to the signature seeming to herald of the sudden deaths of two of Ztar's most ardent opponents during his final push of active conquest – High General Nje, the Mon Collective's top-ranking military leader, and Hiuku (meaning King of Kings) Tse, the small realm's monarch. Tse and Nje's demise within days of each other marked the turning point in the war of acquisition Ztar launched against the strategically desirable Collective and its 15 inhabited worlds, coincidentally including Hydeera. While sensors had recorded the anomaly not far from the two separate locations of the high-profile deaths, investigators at the time could not explain the readings or link it to their leaders' demise. Post mortems revealed Nje's killer to be asphyxiation and Tse perished from a burst brain aneurism, yet they found no reason for the asphyxiation nor had Tse's most recent medical examination revealed any abnormalities within his vascular system. "Amazingly similar to the coroner's findings on Raminjen's death," Gtar-Cro had noted.

Once Mon fell, the neighboring Raisil Unity surprisingly came knocking on the Empire's door with overtures to join Ztar's expanding realm. What Raisil proposed proved too tempting to resist as their scientists had discovered a key to improving FTL-drive engine performance that if it delivered as promised, would be a significant advancement. Acquiring that research and bringing it to technological fruition proved a turning point in a later war – the one declared against his empire by The Systems Commonwealth.

Additional scattered hits over the years also came to light, some associated with no particular event, while others occurred during specific incidents…incidents that only in hindsight helped shape the Empire.

That's where the investigation stood when Gtar-Cro tracked Archangel's PI signal to the Tchutchka system. Sensor data was quickly analyzed. A military cruiser stationed above Tchutchka Centrus recorded an unusual sensor hit passing through the atmospheric sphere. Quick re-examination of the ship's scanner logs using MI's algorithms revealed the Hydeera signature and that correlated to Archangel's traced signal. Analysis also revealed the second phenomenon entering Tchut airspace a day earlier and then departing approximately the time of Archangel's comm to Ztar.

The Emperor sighed heavily as he felt a rare headache looming. He did not like what they had learned and hypothesized. Two highly advanced ships – evidence pointed to that. One was the vessel holding his former companion, and the other… Etagllot? Someone else? No answers. He moved the report data to a holo-projection in front of his desk and rose to stand next to the hovering image. Extending a hand into the projection, he reshuffled the sighting incidents from chronological into two columns he labeled innocuous and illicit.

A pattern was immediately apparent. The Hydeera signature seemed to correlate with benign events – the save on Hydeera, the prevented kidnapping, and Jandur were three examples. The Earth signature fell into the illicit column – Gzenra, Mon Genesis, and probable flipside of the thwarted kidnapping. But beyond a certain time marker, there was only the Hydeera signature. The Earth signature seemed a more recent phenomenon – within the last 10 years. Had sensor technology simply advanced enough to be able to detect glimpses of it at that point? Or was it suggesting one ship's cloaking technology had been upgraded?

Ztar studied the holo image. Gtar-Cro's team had pointed out a gap in the Hydeera signature appearances and it stood out prominently. From the first documentation of the Earth signature around the time of the Raisil acquisition until roughly two years ago, the Hydeera signature disappeared. Why? Possibilities swirled, all leading to the question that still had no definitive answer – was there one ship or two?

One person could likely provide an answer – Archangel. Did Ztar dare ask? How would Archangel and the Esserru react to knowing he was conducting an extensive probe into their movements? Ztar swung his arm through the projection in growing frustration and unease, sending data images flying. Doubts were beginning to nip at his heels as he returned to his desk.

One ship was confirmed Eshaaru by Archangel. The other could be Etagllot-controlled if the attempted Earth abduction was indeed that organization as the Esserru claimed. That assumption led to two possibilities – one alarming and the other heartbreaking. Either the Etagllot had commandeered an Eshaaru ship at some juncture or some of the Eshaaru were working with the Etagllot. The Turzent emperor groaned deeply. Neither possibility was welcome. If an Etagllot-controlled Eshaaru ship was moving freely within his empire and injecting itself into key events or perhaps even orchestrating those events, he had a major problem on his hands. 'By the gods, what are the people on that ship up to?'

Ztar rubbed his temples, then drew his hands through the thick, black-crimson hair and leaned back in his chair. 'All you have concluded is only conjecture. Perhaps it isn't the Etagllot behind the second ship – is it possible Archangel's protectors are wrong on that? Maybe someone else is after Archangel and behind the illicit events, some of which clearly had benefited your empire-building campaign. But if not Etagllot, who?'

Then he thanked the gods again for giving him the wisdom to move from a pure dictatorship to an imperiocratic government. With most of the day-to-day burdens of running a vast interstellar empire shifted to local authorities, he could focus on the big threats to his realm – the Etagllot, the increasingly unstable Commonwealth and that accompanying uncertainty, unresolved issues with Parma-Sentois, and now perhaps an unidentified force manipulating to an unknown agenda.

At that moment, Jharda entered his office with a warm smile that instantly soothed his troubled mind. "My Emperor, I have come to rescue you," she cooed, coming around to his side of the large desk. Placing her hands on his broad shoulders, she began to massage the tense muscles.

Ztar immediately began to relax. "I should be doing this for you, my Empress. You carry a heavier and far more important burden – our future emperor."

She leaned down to his ear. "Point one, beloved. I'm not yet officially Empress. Point two, that's future _empress_, and point three – allow me the pleasure of giving my lover a massage without protests." Then she pinched a particularly tender point causing Ztar to jerk.

"Point one will be rectified soon," he said with a light laugh. "Point two is currently under debate. Point three…well, I will relent on that."

Jharda kissed the top of Ztar's head and caressed his ear. "Time to come to the bedchamber."

Ztar twisted around to look up at his beautiful Jharda with a salacious grin. "You'll get no protests on that!"

###

After his and Ettwanae's short getting-to-know-you session, Volu told Warren what she'd learned regarding The Dark Ones. It wasn't much. There were speculations, rumors, theories, and even scoff, but nothing concrete.

What Volu discovered echoed what he heard from Tider and Tribo'lu. At one end of the spectrum, the Dark Ones were an ultra-secret sect of Etxan'Ir searchers and on the other end, one of the ancients – powerful, shadowy beings of darkness. Little hard evidence existed to give more weight to one theory over another. Warren was disappointed. He'd hoped for greater insight into the enemy, something he could use to their advantage. If they were indeed heading into a Dark Ones lair, he wanted more than rumor and speculation. That was not to be.

One thing bothered him slightly during Volu's report. 'Maybe I'm just imagining it, but she seems almost cool to me lately, but not all the time. Off and on – like today. Wonder if it's me or if something else is bothering her?' he pondered. Since Volu had not been shy about sharing her disapprovals before, Warren decided to let it be. He had other problems to focus on. Like Flint.

A big decision loomed – take Flint on the Neu mission or not. The kid's ability could be extremely useful in a fight, but he was inexperienced, cocky, impulsive, and not used to following orders; any of which could get them captured or killed. Yet if Flint was ever going to be useful, he had to gain experience and there was only one way to do that.

Sighing, he slid back on the crate and leaned into Volu's bulkhead. On the other hand, he should get that experience first in less vital, less potentially dangerous missions. Flint needed training. Warren had to know the smart-mouthed teen would do as he was told. The more he considered it, the more Warren convinced himself Neu was not the place for Flint's first mission. 'No, priority one – he must learn what being on a team means, learn to follow order without question, and how to defend himself with more than his ability.' And so Warren began to plan out Flint's training program.

Then there was Ettwanae; equally ill equipped to face potentially deadly enemies. What Warren needed was a danger room.

"Volu, can you project holographic images down here?" he asked.

"I have no visual display capabilities on the lower level. Why do you ask?"

There is was again – that bit of frost in the tone. "Just a hope I had, but it won't work."

'If holo displays aren't possible, then the enemy will have to be something real.' He smiled wryly. 'Guess they'll have to fight little ol' me.' Could be painful. Could be fun. 'As long as Flint keeps the fire away from the feathers, it could work.' But the thought of burned plumage gave Warren pause. Since mature feathers are mostly dead, they would not regenerate if singed, and his next molt was a ways off. Bottom line, he'd have to trust Flint not to singe pinions, unintentionally or otherwise.

First chore was to break the news to Flint, who'd been hinting around since Tchutchka that he wanted in on Neu. Second, Warren had to decide how to prepare Ettwanae without getting themselves into an uncomfortable 'predicament.' Close-contact training was likely out of the question while Aru was active.

He sighed again, noting he had done a lot of that since joining the intrepid group. The urgings flared after 'the hug' and he had sought refuge once more in the lower cargo hold. Closing his eyes, he felt Aru's nagging, akin to a deep, intense itch he couldn't scratch or a craving no substitute satisfied. It may just drive him insane. That and boredom. And the confinement. The feathered appendages spread with longing. He needed some airtime and soon.

"Volu, how long 'til Thael?"

"3.2 ISD."

He groaned. 'Three more days. God, help me!'

###

They had landed on Thael without incident when Warren's curiosity got the best of him. It took all of his Worthington persuasiveness to convince Volu, but he wanted a report. Warren again requested privacy when the Eshaar'ne finally relented, yet he had no way of confirming the ship wouldn't eavesdrop. Her presence seemed to hover at the edge of his perceptions. The Eshaar'ne's lukewarm behavior toward him had continued. Suspicion nagged, but he could do little about it except confront her. That could keep.

Ztar's expression communicated the answer before he spoke it. "I'm sorry, Archangel, but the information had already been sold."

"Shit! Any idea to whom?"

"Unfortunately, the operative wasn't able to secure that information. Tider's mind is apparently unbreachable. Our telepath said she had not encountered mental shields as powerful as his. When pressed, the man said the data was a one-time sale and no longer available for purchase. He was firm even under threat." The Emperor released a sigh Warren recognized all too well. "You had requested he not be harmed, so I abided by that." The Emperor was clearly disappointed by the restriction.

"We might need him in the future."

Ztar's face furrowed from a frown. "Perhaps. The telepath is one of Gtar-Cro's best, which means Tider's shields are substantial."

The report immediately gave Warren a new appreciation for the broker. "It explains a lot about how he's able to keep information to himself and stay in business – and remain alive."

Then a sly look slid across the Turzent features. "_I_ would like to opportunity to test those shields."

Warren smirked. Aside from Charles Xavier, he knew of few telepaths as powerful as Ztar.

"He may indeed be useful in the future," Ztar continued, but didn't elaborate. "I worry more about you every day, Archangel. Your enemies keep multiplying."

"We don't know who bought that information – could be someone already on the list. It's Ettwanae I worry about. She must be protected."

Ztar almost jumped toward the screen at that. "All the more reason I should send an escort to you. I can't protect you when I don't know where you are and what you're doing."

Warren watched the Emperor's face and eyes – he was truly worried. That concern could lead Ztar to do things Warren would rather he not. "Ztar, tell me you'll drop whatever ideas you have about how to protect me. It will only complicate matters."

Ztar threw up his hands and leaned back sharply in his chair. "Complicate? How much more complex can things become? The whole situation is a swirl of unanswered questions, unknown adversaries, the Etagllot, kidnappings, disturbing manipulations, mysterious ships-"

Warren cut him off on that one. This was his opportunity. "Ztar, I'm on the mystery ship from Hydeera."

Ztar was silent for many seconds. Warren could see the wheels turning.

"They saved _you_." Ztar's eyes were riveted to Warren's.

"Yes."

"Gtar-Cro and I speculated as much." The frown returned, but one more of concentration. "My instincts said there were two ships involved in the attempt to take you from Earth – the ship you're on and another vessel."

"You're right, there was."

"That other ship is like the one you're on now. It's an Eshaaru vessel as well, isn't it?"

"Yes, Ztar."

"Warren!" Surprised mixed with anger in Volu's hushed outcry.

'Got my confirmation on the privacy issue,' Warren grimaced, irritation flaring. The Turzent gave Warren an odd look, but said nothing about the female voice. 'He can't hear Volu?'

"Are there others?" the Emperor wanted to know.

"Not that we're aware of."

"No more." The command was laden with warning.

Ztar cocked his head. "Hence your message that Gtar-Cro should not worry about a fleet of cloaked ships."

"Exactly," he replied trying to hide his reactions to Volu from the Turzent.

"If the Etagllot have an Eshaaru ship…" Ztar shook his head. "Can you confirm that? Are Eshaaru working with the Etagllot?"

"Warren. No _more_!" the Eshaar'ne backed up her demand with a sharp zap to the back of his neck, and he jerked. 'Fuck!' Now he knew what Flint experienced.

Concern filled the Turzent's deep brown eyes as he leaned toward the screen. "Archangel, is everything alright? You look suddenly upset."

"Everything is good. Just a little disagreement between a couple people here that distracted me. I'm going to have to cut this short."

Ztar gave him a long, intense look before speaking again. "I have many questions about the Eshaaru you are with, who is in the other ship, and more. Can't we talk a little longer?"

"Sorry, but I've got to go. Thanks for trying with Tider. I very much appreciate the effort. We'll talk again later." Then he ended the link.

"Volu, that was rude," he pointed out with a flat tone, holding ire at bay. "My conversation was supposed to be private."

"You know our wishes, Warren. You were ignoring them. In fact, you ignored them earlier and asked the Emperor to make contact with Tider. But more than that, you obviously told Ztar you are with an _Eshaaru_! How _dare_ you betray us!" The feminine voice burned with semi-contained rage.

'Oh, she's _pissed_,' Warren remarked silently, almost certain he felt the room vibrating. "Ztar is _not_ the enemy. He can be trusted. In fact, we could tap into huge resources if you'd just let him help."

"Your emperor has done _nothing_ to warrant my trust," Volu shot back with venomous tenor.

Warren jumped from his bed in rising agitation. "What will it take, Volu? What would Ztar have to do to gain your trust? How can you condemn him as untrustworthy if you won't even give him an _opportunity_ to prove himself? That is illogical!"

"No!" The retort came quickly. "His record speaks for itself."

"That record you hold as evidence is of a man who no longer exists, Volu. Look at what he's done recently. He has changed. Ztar is not the man he was even three years ago. I was there. I saw. I-" He wanted to say it – to claim his role in moving Ztar from ruthless and self-serving to what he had become. Still, it felt presumptuous. Yet if Volu believed him to be at least part Eshaaru...and if the legends of Esserru as healers of souls had even some basis in reality… He quieted his voice and temper and sat back on the bed gently. "I helped him heal, Volu. He was always an honorable man in his own way, but it was overwhelmed by the aftereffects of atrocities he endured. Somehow I was able to reach him and…and help his soul to heal." Warren paused, but the Eshaar'ne remained quiet. "I don't know how exactly, but that is what _he_ claims, not me. He left the darkness behind."

Heavy silence filled the room for many long moments. Warren waited, holding his breath.

"Some Eshaaru filter The Source sufficiently to affect individual Ura and restore balance to the energy patterns. The rebalancing results in the recipient individual being at peace and filled with contentment. Hence the "Healer of Souls" moniker Eshaaru have acquired in various legends." She sounded distant, as if the reciting a passage from her memory stores.

"He's _has_ changed, Volu," Warren offered softly.

"Time will reveal whether or not your faith is warranted, Warren."

If that were as much as she was willing to give, he would take it. "Agreed. So you know, I asked Ztar to keep Ettwanae a secret – even from his mate – and he vowed he would."

"For her sake, I hope he can. Regardless of Ztar's current trustworthiness, you should not have broken trust with us, Warren."

Warren could have sworn the room temperature dropped several degrees. "I only did to keep Ztar from looking for me. He needed something concrete to reassure him I was not in danger. I know the man – if he believed at all that I was being coerced, he'd turn the empire upside-down to find me. Is that what you wanted? His beliefs say the Eshaaru are benevolent. And it worked, he backed off."

"You had other options that could have been just as convincing."

"I have found that lying often backfires, Volu, especially with a telepath. It may gain an objective in the short-term, but when the lie is discovered, you've lost far more than achieved. I apologize for not telling you what I shared with Ztar, but your anger now is exactly why I remained silent. You're right, I knew your wishes, but at no time did I say I would not tell Ztar. Keeping him from doing something we preferred he didn't was my motive and although you disagree with the method, it apparently is working."

A heavy silence hung in the room as the second ticked by. 'Will Volu decide I'm not to be trusted? That is not something I'm really looking forward to dealing with,' he lamented. 'Time will tell how much damage has been done.'

Finally, Volu spoke. "Exposing her existence to Tider was foolish as well. You should not have let her to do so."

"_Let_ her?" Warren's ire reignited quickly at the accusation. "That was her decision. I did not even _suggest_ she do so."

"I know." The tone had shifted to neutral. "She told me you had nothing to do with that choice."

"Damn right I had nothing to do with it," he huffed. "Besides, it got us what we needed – a lead."

"Hopefully, a lead worth the price."

Warren nodded. He had the same reservations as the Eshaar'ne in that respect. "Let's hope Tider lives up to his reputation and the nodes are indeed on Neu." Heaviness remained in the air. "And I did try to prevent Tider from selling that knowledge to the wrong people. Ztar attempted to get it for us. You have to give him and me that much credit." The soft background sound of Volu's internal functions was his only reply. "Still angry with me?" He so wished Volu had a face he could look into. 'Was that a sigh?' he wondered at the odd sense of release that rippled through the room.

"I have moved from anger to disappointment."

"Over Ztar?"

"And Tider."

That puzzled him. "Tider? How so?"

"That you were unable to find another way to obtain the information from him."

"As in use of force?"

"You said you could be ruthless. You implied use of techniques that we have not employed in the past."

The Eshaar'ne had hoped he'd use violence? "Volu, if Ettwanae had not been with me, other options may have been available, but I could not risk starting something with Tider that could end up getting her hurt."

"That was the answer I had hoped you would give, but afraid you would not."

"As in afraid I'd take unnecessary chances with her safety?"

"Yes. You chose not to. That is good."

He passed a test he did not know he was taking. 'At least I've done something right in her eyes.' However, tension still hung in the air.

"What is not good is your emperor has been given a very precious secret…we shall see if he honors it," the ship announced flatly while all too clearly once again rejecting Ztar as her monarch.

"I cannot change your mind if you are determined to view him as a threat. All I ask is you give him a chance to prove he can be trusted."

Suddenly, it felt as if the air drained out of his small quarters to be replaced by suffocating foreboding. "Ztar has been given his chance, Warren, not by me, but by _you_." Volu's voice was as cold as deep space. "Know this – if he or his minions attempt to take or harm Ettwanae, if they endanger her in any way, I will destroy them without hesitation. _Anyone_ that puts her life in jeopardy will forfeit their own. There is nothing I will not do to protect her. For his own sake, I pray your emperor upholds his vow of secrecy."

Shivers ran down the length of Warren's spine and his wings quivered. For the first time since boarding Volu, Warren truly feared the living ship.

###

_A/N: Next chapter, the Tchutchka Centrus visit fallout comes to haunt, while Warren and company enjoy themselves on Thael._


	28. Chapter 27

_A/N: Here's another chapter quickly on the heels of the previous. Thank goodness C27 required very little final editing. I'm pleased with how this one came together and hope you like it as well. _

_As promised, Warren and Ettwanae enjoy themselves, but new trouble looms on the horizon…_

**Chapter 27**

"Let's run!" she exclaimed, her angelic face beaming.

"You mean fly." He couldn't help but smile at Ettwanae's child-like excitement.

"No, run – as fast as we can that way." She pointed to the horizon. "When you get to the end, _jump_! Follow me!" And with a laugh she was gone like a dart. He watched for a half second before tucking his wings tight to his body and taking off after Ettwanae. She was quickly leaving him in her dust. 'God, she's fast!' He kicked in the turbo drive.

Across the ground they sped, legs pumping, hearts joining in. He could hear her laughter as it rode the wind back to his ears, blending with the throoshing sound of the knee-high grasses whipping his legs. Faster and faster they raced headlong toward the rim of the high mountain plateau.

"Jump!" she shouted backward just yards from the edge. "Like this!" and with powerful legs she sprang into the air as the ground beneath her ended, and dove off the cliff like a base jumper, wings still held close. Warren, just two heartbeats behind her, trustingly followed her example. As they plunged toward the valley floor far below, he watched her tumble and twist and roll. Her laughter bouncing off the cliff face that blurred by. It was a joyous sound. Then he performed a few of his own freefall maneuvers and found himself laughing into the rushing wind as well.

Streamlining his aerial profile, he caught up with her and they locked eyes. Ettwanae's danced with the joy that only their kind of freedom could bring. Then she angled away as the ground rushed up. At the last moment, two pairs of wings snapped opened, grabbed air, and whooshed the valley vegetation in a vertical to horizontal sweep that ended with a tight upward soar on momentum's exhilarating ride. The wonderful leaving-the-stomach-behind feeling delighted their senses and tickled their insides.

"Whoopee!" Warren shouted. He couldn't help himself. The thrill excited his soul. This was where he belonged – romping in the sky. His eyes shot to Ettwanae. In the sky with her. He shuddered from need so powerful and so deep he thought he'd be sucked into its vortex. His soul longed for her…reached for the lithe form bathed in the Thael's red-gold sunlight…

"Catch me if you can!" she shouted mischievously and veered off sharply to the left.

He jerked as her challenge cut through the swelling emotions. With a left dip and powerful beats, the chase was on. Warren thought he was quick in the air. She was like lightening. Up and down, around rocks and vegetation, skimming the undulations of the terrain, he followed her. She dodged and darted, always just out of reach. At times, he caught a determined face as it glanced back at him and in the next moment, it was filled with wild excitement over an obstacle cut almost too close or when his hand nearly snagged her ankle. He focused his whole awareness on his quarry. Long, golden hair as it whipped in the wind and shone like molten gold. The white wings flashing with brilliance when the sun hit them the right way. He was transfixed on her body as it moved and turned with incredible grace and power as she pushed herself to her limits. A couple of times he almost had her, or had she slowed to lure him in? Then she was off again, a huge smile flashed as if to yell "slowpoke!"

She was wondrous – a beautiful being he might just like to spend eternity entangled around. Was that just lust talking? Aru? Feral mating drive? It may have started that way, but it was quickly becoming more. In spite of the barriers between them, almost despite himself, Ettwanae was becoming increasingly important to him each passing day.

Warren had been in love before, he knew the signs; knew the difference between lust and love. He wasn't in love. No, it was too soon to declare that, but in like? Yes, he was very much in like of Ettwanae. As he watched her gracefully slice the Thael winds, his heart whispered for more…more togetherness, more quiet moments with her in his embrace, more playing in the skies, more knowing her – just more. Then her laughter skipped along the wind back to him and his smile grew wider. 'Need to find a way for that to happen, and then see where it leads,' he decided. With a chuckle, he kicked in the afterburners to catch up with the woman who was throwing him that "slowpoke" grin again.

###

As Warren and Ettwanae disappeared beyond the plateau drop, Gatebi turned toward Flint. "Ever wonder what that must be like?" she sighed her question, looking longingly up at the sky.

Flint eyed his shipmate. Gatebi had voiced that question more than once in their year-plus together. "You have wing envy," he jabbed.

She leaned back against the rocks her and Flint had staked out near Volu's cloaked presence. They'd do as they always did – wait patiently on the ground while Ettwanae got her fill of the sky. "I admit it. Though to be accurate, I have flying envy. I'd take it with or without the wings."

"I'd go with no wings. They'd get in the way too much." Flint popped another sweet/tart odent berry into his mouth. They were his favorite fruit to date in his new space faring life. That reminded him. "Hey, Vo!"

Silence.

He sighed. "Hey, Vo_lu_!" Flint called, sing-songing her name.

"Yes, Flint?"

"How's our stock of odent berries? Been awhile since we got any."

"We have a small reserve."

Gatebi gave Flint an accusatory glare. "If our supply is low, there's only one person to blame."

Flint swiped at her without really trying to make contact. "Then consider it added to the list. Humans need fruit. Somethin' bad happens if we don't get it – an illness called scurry or somethin'."

"My last scan showed you in perfect health, Flint," Volu noted with a barely discernable indignant bristle.

"Yeah, well, like to keep it that way. I'm still growin' and need good nutrition." A smirk crossed Flint's face and another handful of odent berries found their way into his mouth.

Gatebi shared one of her highly rationed laughs. "Growing wide, you obviously mean."

Flint huffed. "Hardly! Anyway, War and Twae are gonna be a while and the company here's kinda annoying," he complained with an accusing eye. "Vo, you up for another round of LanicWorld?"

A flick of the hand communicated Gatebi's bafflement. "Do you _ever_ tire of playing that game?"

The Human rolled his eyes. "No-o-o. Best game ever. Me and Vo created the next gaming mega hit. Totally rad! When I get back to Earth, I'm gonna sell it and make zillions!"

"So instead of enjoying the fresh air and sunshine, you're going inside and play a PI game?"

Flint headed inside Volu. "God, Gabby, ya sound like my mother!"

"The name is Gatebi," she threw at his back mostly out of habit as the Human disappeared into the ship.

###

By the time she finally alighted on the far side of the plateau from Volu, he had decided she was joyous life. All during their chase, her love of flying and the freedom it offered came through in her laughter, expressions, and radiating delight. He had once been like her, but that joy died piece by piece within him as life dealt him blow after blow, culminating in its death when he lost his real wings. In the ensuing years, the joy resurrected in bits and fits, but never with the intensity of his younger years. Not until he returned to Earth from Sat'rey and focused on healing his battered soul did he rediscover most of the joyfulness. He had settled for being _nearly_ there; of almost finding his old self. He accepted that he'd done too much, seen too much, to truly go back.

Yet during the past half hour with her, all the horrors he endured, all the pain suffered, the last vestiges of darkness in his soul were left behind. He felt young again – almost giddy with happiness as he tore through the air, hell-bent on snagging the elusive woman who managed to stay just beyond his fingertips. For a little while, Warren was once again overflowing with the simply joy of being alive.

There she stood, eyes cast up, watching him come in for a landing. She was beautiful beyond any he had laid eyes on before. Her spirit called to his. She was true Esserru – healer of souls, the Turzent word meant. Perhaps Ettwanae could help him take the final step in permanently repairing that last, scarred part of his own spirit.

###

"Wasn't that fun!" she exclaimed, feeling childlike in her delight. Just the two of them, playing in their element, exchanging laughter and the sheer wonder of being free within the embrace of the heavens. 'Perfect! This is so perfect!' she told herself. As he landed, she closed the gap and risked the longing that couldn't be satisfied to throw her arms around his neck and rest her cheek on his shoulder. "I love you," she declared, then instantly regretted it. He didn't feel the same. Would he ever?

Lifting her head, she looked up into those crystalline-blue eyes that mirrored her own to see what they would reveal. They were smiling; he was smiling, and his arms tightened around her. "I am honored," came the response, and she couldn't stop the disappointment. Then need began to stir, but she would tolerate it if she could stay right where she was. He decided otherwise and all too quickly, gently extricated himself.

"You're right, that was fun. More fun than I've had in the air in a long while. Thank you for that." The words were warm and gentle. "You, Ettwanae, are quite the speed demon – land or air!"

"Speed demon?" She wasn't familiar with the term.

"Someone who is fast and loves being fast."

She giggled. It was an accurate description. "That's me! You're no laemor yourself."

"Okay, my turn. What's a laemor?"

She slunk down and moved her arms and legs in a slow-motion, crawling-like impression away from Warren. "A ve-r-ry slo-o-o-w animal found on Saii." She turned back, continuing her mimicry. "In fact, they are so-o-o slo-o-ow," she was nearly next to him, "their prey often doesn't notice the movement until it's too late!" With that she pounced, tickling and poking his sides. She was rewarded with laughter and feigned fighting that ended with her whirling around to sprint away, but she wasn't quite fast enough. Grabbing her from behind, he pulled her in tight, pinning her arms to her body.

"You'll not escape!" he snarled in a low, threatening voice, lifting her so her feet no longer touched the ground.

She was helpless with laughter. For a few precious moments, she forgot the pain, the urges, what they couldn't have. Then he quieted and set her down only to spin her around to face him. In a blink of an eye, his mouth encompassed hers, their tongues dancing. The kiss deepened; he press hard into her. Ettwanae clamped her arms around his back, sliding her palms up between the wings and then grabbed hold at the base of each wing.

'Oh, goddess, I want this!' she called out to her deity. 'Please!'

"We…must…stop," he managed between hungry kisses. "Shit!" and he pulled away harshly.

"No, no! Don't stop," she pleaded trying to take his mouth once again. He let her on the third try. She couldn't get enough fast enough. The taste, his breath, smell. She found the sweet spot on his wings with her thumbs and he jerked and inhaled sharply. His arousal pressed against her.

Suddenly, he pushed back, breaking her embrace, and held her at arms length. "No, we can't do this," he pleaded in a breathless voice. "Remember what will happen."

Ettwanae wanted to scream in frustration. "I want you! Can't we just try? We know what to expect; maybe it won't be so bad now that we know," she begged.

He dropped his hands and backed away. "But Volu said-"

She cut him off. "I know what Volu said, but I want to try again. Maybe not now, but soon." Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly while extending her wings about half-spread and then letting them fall back into place to release the sexual tension. Clamping down on the urges that had nearly swept her away, she reopened her eyes and locked onto Warren's. "Right now, I just want you to hold me."

His expression was tired and pained, and it made her heart cry. Was the constant pull to bond wearing him down already?

"I don't think that's a good idea at the moment," he replied with a defeated sigh.

The joy of moments ago was slipping away. 'Ettwanae, you're such an idiot! Why did you spoil everything?' she berated herself. Tears threatened, but she steeled herself against them. She needed to salvage what had been a perfect outing.

"Then perhaps we can play a game to take our minds off things? It's something Baumpa and I used to do when we visited the country." She couldn't be certain of his next expression, so she pressed on. "See the clouds? We'd look for patterns…see if they form images." She scanned the sky and then pointed to a particularly interesting cloud formation in the rusty firmament. "Like there. That one looks like a Turzent spacecraft. See how the outline resembles a battleship?"

She watched him as he studied the cloud, noting how the soft breeze teased his hair. "You're right, it does," he nodded. "That part sticking up in the center is like the bridge deck."

"And the little clouds – they're fighters."

"No…too big, I think. More like small cruisers. Probably part of an armada."

She sat down on the ground. "Some of the Emperor's forces going to defend us against a Commonwealth invasion force. They are a formidable opponent, but the Emperor will lead our warriors to victory once again, just like he did before."

Warren settled in next to her, legs stretched out before him and leaning back on hands planted slightly behind him. He scanned the sky. "Look!" he said pointing suddenly to another cloud. "There's the Commonwealth battle carrier."

"It's so big!" she exclaimed in feigned fright. "Do our ships have a chance?"

His eyes took on a distant look, but they didn't seem focused on the heavens. "Ztar will figure out a way, just like he did in the battle for Phagiulu System."

Ettwanae jerked. "I remember that battle – it's famous! The comnet news talked of it for weeks. It was one of the rare times Baumpa and I watched any war news. We had all but lost the fight, they said, but then the Emperor arrived. He laid a trap for their battleship and defeated the Commonwealth fleet. Everyone said it was a brilliant victory."

Warren nodded knowingly. "I know. I was there."

She inhaled sharply. "You were _there_? At Phagiulu?"

"On the Emperor's ship, the Mi-Lartui."

Ettwanae was stunned. She'd had no idea that Warren had been with the Emperor so long ago. "But I thought you became Royal Court only a couple years ago?"

"True, but I was with…I've known Ztar for roughly six imperial years."

"Six years," she echoed. It was a long time. Were they companions all those years? 'Does it really matter?' she asked herself. 'He's here with you now, regardless of how long he was with Ztar. It does add to why Warren is so trusting of the Emperor.' When she glanced his way, Warren was giving her a curious look.

"Does that bother you?" The question was to the point.

'Does it?' She looked away quickly. Ettwanae didn't want it to, but six _years_? Yet how many were spent as bedmates? Maybe she shouldn't jump to conclusions. How could she find out without being impolite? She just couldn't bring herself to ask bluntly. Then he chuckled lightly and she turned back his way.

"I can guess what you're wondering. Ztar and I were companions for a little more than five standard years, Ettwanae. I left him to return to Earth about a year ago."

His openness invited more questions. "You love him?" she asked, watching his reaction closely. A slight change in expression passed over his features and the eyes reflected something she couldn't interpret. The blue orbs held hers and she felt as if he was reading her soul.

"We're very close. I do love him, but not the kind of love you're asking about."

"But you're soulbound to him!" The words blurted out before she thought; they sounded almost accusatory – not how she meant it at all. She held her breath.

His eyes did not waiver and she was immediately uncomfortable. A sudden sense swept through her that there were volumes of untold story behind the relationship – the feeling was so much more than a guess, it was a knowing that Warren and Ztar's story was not at all as it appeared on the surface.

A quiet sigh escaped him, the shoulder movement giving it away more than the sound of a breath. The crystalline-blue depths released her and Warren looked at the horizon. "It's complicated, Ettwanae. The soulbound business was not intentional – I told you that. I have no explanation why that occurred. I love Ztar as a brother, yet it's not quite that either." He shook his head. "Hard to describe. Maybe there's no word for what he and I shared in the end. Just know that our relationship is over. He has Jharda now and they belong together. All is as it should be."

She searched his face. There were little clues in his words – 'in the end,' 'all is as it should be.' What were those clues saying? Perhaps one day, he'd share, but not that day…it came through clearly in his tone.

She smiled widely. "He was very fortunate to have you in his life, but I'm glad you're in mine now." Ettwanae hoped it was the right thing to say to ease the tension.

The handsome features softened. Reaching over, he touched his fingers to her chin and cheek and she couldn't stifle a little shudder. "I am glad, too. Someday, we'll really be together. Until then, I look forward to more days like this one. I had a wonderful time."

She thought she saw a little tearing in his eyes, but he turned his head up to the sky too quickly. "Looks like the Commonwealth ship has been defeated." The cloud was breaking up.

"Emperor Ztar wins again," she proclaimed, her voice sounding hallow. The words shedding light on her internal questions, but Warren seemed oblivious.

"Oh, I think he had a little help…" A sly smile crept across Warren's face and she wondered just what happened on the Emperor's cruiser that famous day.

###

To them, their shopping list was long, but to the stores master of Gnaza Supply House, it was a small order. The Thaelan purveyor dealt with much larger ship's orders every day. And as Ztar promised, the LinCreds card was waiting for them.

Ettwanae and Warren waited patiently as their purchases were pulled by robots from the huge warehouse and loaded into the skimmer they'd rented from the supply house. Warren had no idea how many credits were on the card or what a credit could buy. When the stores master gave them the final tally, it meant nothing to him. He looked quickly to Ettwanae with a look that said, "Sound right?" She gave him a subtle nod.

With the skimmer loaded and on course to Volu, Ettwanae gave him a disapproving look from the co-pilot's seat. "We need to teach you about credits. You didn't have a clue back there, did you?"

"Hey, give me a break. Royal Court members don't have to worry about money. It's an all expense paid ride."

She shook her head. "Royalty or not, you need to learn what things cost."

He laughed. "Then you'll have to be my teacher."

"Oh, no. That Gatebi's department. She's responsible for ship's stores."

Warren was disappointed. He'd like to have had the lesson from Ettwanae. Still in all, spending any amount of time with the Eshaaru swung between being unbearable to mildly uncomfortable. Even being together in the confines of the skimmer for the short trip was made his libido stir. Luckily, Volu wasn't that far away. Perhaps his financial tutorial was best lead by someone else.

###

Later, with the goods stowed and the skimmer sent on its automated way, Warren sat in the galley for his version of a light snack. The trip to town had worked up an appetite, not that it took a lot to do so. As he downed a heaping plate of food, he contemplated with anticipation his first night on the new mattress they'd purchased to replace the makeshift sleeping pad. Anything would be better than layered blankets and old clothes formed into a mattress. He ordered the softest, most luxurious mattress they offered. After giving it a quick test drive once they'd maneuvered it into his tight quarters, he felt it held promise. It nearly didn't fit, but even if it took up the entire room, he would sacrifice everything else for a decent night's sleep.

His daydreams of sleeping bliss were interrupted when Gatebi entered, approached him, and extended her hand, palm up. Warren was puzzled.

"Hand it over. Ettwanae says you are too naïve to have a LinCreds."

Warren stopped in mid chew, eyebrows raised. "What?"

"Someone who doesn't understand the imperial momentary system should not be trusted with access to it. Give me the card."

Stunned didn't begin to describe his reaction. "I will not. Ztar issued it to me. It's activated by my bio-sig and only my bio-sig. The card stays with me."

Gatebi's hand dropped to her side. "How you could have lived in the Empire for all these years and not learned…" Her head shook in disbelief. "At least let me teach you what you don't know. It's important to understand what things cost and how to handle imperial credits."

Warren sat back in his chair and locked eyes with the impudent Alcab. "I'm CEO of a multinational corporation. I can read financial reports and spot questionable accounting better than most CPAs. My personal portfolio rivals that of many small countries. I can finagle a takeover bid from my easy chair. I don't think I need a lesson in finances," he rattled off with air of superiority. You can't run a multi-billion dollar, international company on good looks alone. 'Wel-l-l, maybe...' he smirked internally.

"How many credits to buy a box of the zante you love so much?"

'Shit.' She had him dead to rights.

"Well?" She crossed her arms and tapped her foot in an all-too-human gesticulation.

"I don't need to know minutia. All I need to know is that the card has enough credits to cover our needs."

"For someone who portends monetary suaveness, you don't offer a very persuasive argument."

His interest was piqued. Gatebi was showing another side of herself. "And I suppose you are a financial wizard and will enlighten me?"

"I can show you the fundamentals of what keeps commerce flowing in the Turzent Empire, obviously something your indoctrination failed to include." The words were harsh, but he detected a Mona Lisa-like smile at the corner of her mouth. "Then you'll know how much your addiction to zante is costing us."

Now Warren had her. "_Us_? Don't you mean the royal coffers? Remember who our benefactor is."

The slight smile left her face. "Irrelevant. You come from wealth. In my experience, wealth breeds excess. We are poor, Warren. Our resources are finite regardless of our recent windfall. We cannot predict where the future takes us. What is on your card may need to last a very long time. Foolish indulgences or extravagant spending from ignorance by one of us jeopardizes the welfare of all of us. It is my job to ensure we have enough to eat. I take my responsibilities seriously. Either join me for an education or turn the card over to me to manage."

'She found out the price of the mattress,' he concluded. Ettwanae had visibly cringed at its cost. 'Is that what this was all about?' The price of a good night's sleep he could defend, but he'd take the dressing down in stride. Happened before and would happen again. The Alcab made valid points, and her attitude came from a concern for the wellbeing of her shipmates. Commendable. Slightly irritating, but commendable.

He stood and gave her his best I'm-impressed-and-willing-to-hear-more face. "Very well. I will meet you in the gathering room with the card. Be warned, though, I've been known to ask a lot of questions," he cautioned with a grin.

She gave him a quick nod and whirled to head down the corridor.

'Gatebi's got spunk under that reserved, bookish demeanor,' he admired with a quiet chuckle as he dutifully headed for his lesson.

A standard hour later they emerged from the gathering room. Warren came away with a few interesting pieces of information. First, Ztar had been extremely generous. Gatebi nearly fell off her chair when his PI revealed the exact balance on the LinCreds. There was also a message embedded in the card that Warren was a little embarrassed that Gatebi saw, but he didn't think she had time to read the whole text before he snatched the PI away.

"My most treasured Archangel, know that my love follows you wherever you travel," it started. That much Gatebi likely caught. The reference to 'most treasured' brought back warm memories of the night Ztar dubbed him that. "I hope the credits on this card are sufficient for your needs for quite some time. On the other hand, knowing the large quantities of food you consume, if your shipmates eat similarly, the funds may be drawn down more quickly than anticipated." Warren had let out a stifled laugh at that, piquing Gatebi's interest, but he did not reveal the source of his amusement. "Comm me with any request – I am always here for you. After all you gave to me, this is the very least I can do in return. May the gods watch over you and keep you safe. Lovingly, Ztar."

The simple message tugged at his heart. He did love the big guy. It still amazed Warren how dramatically his and Ztar's relationship had changed from that horrible day when Ztar ripped him from Earth to make him his indentured bedmate.

During the lesson, he had learned what several of his favorites cost, some of it surprising expensive, other items relatively inexpensive. Dison, good Dison, was fairly expensive, while the so-so variety was very reasonable, likely accounting for the popularity of the sweet-fiery liquor. Warren assumed he had only enjoyed the good stuff as he couldn't imagine Ztar had anything but the best. Zante were cheap, probably equating to the price of donuts on Earth.

"See," he'd told Gatebi, "my so-called addiction won't eat us out of house and home!" That had made her grin despite the saying being Earth in origin.

Warren had already known the fundamental's of the imperial monetary structure from his early days with Ztar when he spent hours surfing the comnet. Any planet entering the Empire had to relinquish their monetary system. A standardized currency with a single valuation made commerce in the far-flung empire far less complicated. The communications network that worked via subspace for nearly instantaneous transmission was the backbone of the system. Warren had realized years ago that without subspace communication, an interstellar empire of any expanse was improbable.

Gatebi taught him the finer points of buying goods within the Empire. Bartering was common on many planets, especially in private transactions. A few worlds, however, maintained their cultural beliefs that bartering was an insult to the seller. On other worlds, not bartering deemed the buyer either naïve or a fool, and usually the latter. Negotiating took many forms, and a savvy buyer or seller would learn those idiosyncrasies beforehand.

Warren breathed a sigh of relief that he and Ettwanae hadn't screwed up the purchase in Nuunce. Bartering was not common at restocking houses that serviced spaceports; the price was generally the price.

He was able to snatch a few personal tidbits about his refrained tutor. Her full name was Gatebi Eudara. She was full-blooded Alcab of parents who were financially comfortable and doted on their only child. As scientists for the Alcab planetary government, much of their work was classified and they rarely spoke of it in anything but generalities. Gatebi's interests did not include science, much to her parents' chagrin. Gatebi loved to read, but not the latest advances in science or technology. She loved fictional adventures of daring escapades. It was the chance to satisfy her longing for adventure, to see new worlds, and perhaps do something important that kept her at Ettwanae's side after Hydeera. That was as much as he could pull out of the young woman.

Still puzzling was why Gatebi was on Hydeera. What was it about her the Etagllot wanted? No answers from the Alcab. She held to her declaration of ignorance as to their interest in her when he gently probed.

He left the gathering room with the LinCreds card still in his possession. Gatebi stated that he might be capable of managing it on his own as long as he educated himself to local trading customs before making future purchases. Warren came away with one final impression. Gatebi was very protective of her brood. As eldest of the trio, she had taken on the role of mother hen. Warren was a challenger to that self-appointed role. He would need to remember that if he and Gatebi were to have a friendly relationship.

###

Flint had pestered to go into Nuunce for a taste of the nightlife, but Warren vetoed. Instead, Warren got in one last flight before seven days of confinement. As the sun set over Nuunce, Volu snuck through Thael airspace to begin the next leg of their journey.

That night, Warren sunk into the softness of his new bed, pushing aside thoughts of the coming long days of internment. "Ah-h-h-h," he sighed aloud in happiness. "Finally, a decent night's sleep!" The mattress didn't quite match the one back at the estate or the magnificently soft and seductive ones he and Ztar had shared, but it was close. "Feels a little like Ettwanae's," he found himself thinking, though hers was totally organic – part of Volu and it formed around you like the best memory foam mattress you could imagine. "Too bad Volu couldn't grow another bed." But since she was fully mature, that was not possible, the living ship had explained.

Visions of Ettwanae in her bed came without invitation and stirred his libido. With a huff to dispel thoughts of things out of reach, he tried lying face up – the ultimate test for any mattress when you've got a couple of large wings sticking out of your back. The longer he laid there, the more he knew long periods in that position would not be completely comfortable, but short stints would be okay. Happy with his purchase, he maneuvered onto his side and fell into the deepest sleep he'd experienced since joining the feisty group.

###

"What do you mean they want to question Archangel in a triple murder investigation? Why? He had nothing to do with any murders. That's ludicrous!" Ztar was outraged. Tchutchka Centrus authorities were insane.

"My Emperor," Stjarmas'de began calmly, "they are following evidence from the scene. A feather was found. The analysis clearly shows the DNA as Human. As the only known Human with feathers beyond the Earth System, they are asking to speak with him."

"Archangel would never kill unless his life was peril." Ztar knew to the depths of his soul that was truth.

"That may very well have been the case. The victims were armed and found in a dead-end service alley."

Ztar's fear for his former companion ratcheted up several notches. Was the dead trio part of the Etagllot? Had Archangel been forced to kill to protect himself? Questions whirled. "When did this happen? Have the victims been identified? Any other evidence that Archangel was involved? What about witnesses? Was anyone reported to have been with Archangel?"

Stjarmas'de raised a hand to indicate the need to pause. That irritated Ztar slightly – he was being hushed. "Emperor, my staff is sending you the investigative report at this very moment. Many of the answers you seek are there and more. It may be best to read it for yourself and not rely on my interpretation, though I will happily recount it if you desire."

Ztar shook his head. The legal counselor knew him well and his preference to do exactly as the man suggested. "I will read the report as soon as we're done, but I want some answers from you right now, the first being how did the Tchut obtain comparative DNA to determine the feather is Human? Earth is a quarantined world."

"From the data-mining when the planet was first added to the Empire. A large volume of genome data was collected on the species at that time and added to Military Intelligence's knowledge base. Tchut law enforcement has the security clearance to access that data. The Human genome profile is available due to the unusual status of their planet – a _quasi_ non-contact world. The request to compare the DNA found at the murder scene against MI's genome library was very much routine. No one could have anticipated those results would point to a member of our Court."

Ztar cringed at double-edge sword of a freer Empire. His infant imperiocratic government was still revealing its pros and cons. In this instance, the sharing of information formerly held to tight control was putting a member of Ztar's Court into question. Planetary authority to tap into vast resources once limited to Military Intelligence was an outcome of the new imperial constitution and intended to aid in apprehending criminals who tried to escape from one planetary system to the other. All law enforcement agencies now had access to MI's vast criminal databases and species profiles to aid their efforts in identifying suspects in an interstellar realm that allowed free movement of its people.

Pre-FTL and other planets declared non-contact were another matter, though. To protect species who were oblivious to intelligent life beyond their own world, data collected regarding those civilizations was classified and not available to anyone but Military Intelligence. Earth was an exception. While not truly pre-FTL and its leaders well aware that the galaxy teemed with sentient races, it was on the no contact list as agreed by both Earth and Imperial leaderships. Humans were deemed technologically ill-equipped and psychologically unprepared to become full-fledged members of an interstellar community. As such, information about the planet was more readily available beyond MI. The mere fact that Archangel was on Ztar's Court almost demanded that be the case. Difficult to argue a total blanket of secrecy over information about a planet that had some members who traveled freely in interstellar space and held a royal position in the Imperial government. Hence, Human genetic data was part of the general genome library.

'Damn the Gods!' Ztar cursed silently at the Sat'rey deities with whom he had a love/hate relationship. "When did this happen and how did they die?"

A frown crossed his top legal advisor's face. "Roughly five imperial days ago. As to the cause of death, that is the odd part. The autopsy declares strangulation and blocked blood flow to the brain as joint causes of death, but there were no external marks around the throats of the victims, though the airways were clearly crushed."

"But no one had them by the throat?"

The man gave a single nod. "That appears to be the case. How that was accomplished hasn't been determined, though there are theories."

A sickening feeling hit Ztar in the pit of his stomach. He knew of a way. Telekinesis.

Stjarmas'de continued his assessment. "The Tchut will insist on jurisdictional privilege to send their investigators to Earth or to another agreed upon location to question Archangel. I recommend a meeting on Earth with me present. Archangel's best legal position is to remain on Earth. With its non-contact status, cross-jurisdictional privilege is greatly limited, yet the planet is a not the typical hands-off world. Tchut authorities will likely press that point. While I foresee a demand to question, given Earth's legal status, no actions can be taken by the Tchut without the High Court giving specific permission to do so."

Cross-jurisdictional privilege – another result of the new government. Crimes and criminals that crossed territorial boundaries fell immediately under MI's Imperial Civil Security jurisdiction, but if the originating law enforcement agency requested, they would become full partners in the investigation – a change from old imperial law. Prior to the constitution, planetary security forces had no authority beyond their own star system. The civilian arm of Military Intelligence previously handled all cross-system investigations. Under the new rules, everyone involved was learning how to work as a team when jurisdiction lines were crossed.

Ztar nodded in agreement. "Your plan is sound. However, it assumes I can reach him. Archangel is…traveling. At this moment, I have no idea how to contact him, except possibly through Charles Xavier."

The legal counselor edged closer to his PI and his suddenly furrowed face grew larger on Ztar's screen. "Traveling is a vague term, my Emperor. Is there something I need to know?"

"Only that he is on a sojourn and will be gone for an indefinite time."

"Off planet?"

"Yes."

"What happened to his PI?"

"Disabled. The situation is unusual, Stjarmas'de," was all Ztar would give the counselor.

Black Sat'reyan eyes held Ztar's in an unwavering gaze. "If Charles Xavier can contact Archangel that needs to be done immediately. We don't want to give the impression our Court is stalling. And, the comnet news is already sniffing around the story, but thus far Archangel's name has not leaked."

Ztar's heart skipped. "I will put Jharda's office on alert. Her department must be prepared should that happen. I assume Gtar-Cro already knows of this."

"He was briefed an hour ago. Once MI realized Tchut authorities had found Human DNA, he and I were informed. As soon as I received a copy of the investigative report from his office, I commed you."

"The Tchut report is detailed – not a summary?"

"Correct. For them to gain access to MI's DNA database, they had to submit a full case report with Civil Security."

Ztar checked his PI. "I've received the report. Jharda is to receive it as well." Stjarmas'de nodded. "The three dead…_men_?" Again, his counselor indicated affirmative. "You said they were armed."

"Yes, each carried a phase weapon. One stun shot had been fired."

"So whoever killed the men could have been acting in self-defense." Ztar's was relieved. "Self-preservation is a valid legal defense."

"Yes, my Emperor, but fleeing the scene and not contacting Tchut authorities of the situation are suspicious actions at best."

"But if the person who did this feared for his life…" He was not ready to say Archangel was responsible.

"Then the first place they should have gone was the Tchut Security. That is what they will argue. These are some of the reasons we must reach Archangel as quickly as possible. The longer he remains out of contact, the more speculation will take over."

Stjarmas'de was right. "If we cannot reach Archangel, how long can we stall?"

"Without creating suspicions of doing just that? Two standard days at most, in my opinion. It would be conceivable that a member of Court is out of contact for a day or two, but longer than that becomes dubious, particularly under the circumstances. I will tell them simply that Archangel is traveling and is not checking his PI regularly – a common practice when one wishes to get away from everyday troubles and burdens."

"Jharda's office is to keep to the same explanation. Gtar-Cro already knows Archangel left Earth a while ago and has chosen to remain out of contact."

"May I ask why? This is a serious situation, Emperor. The evidence that Archangel was at a murder scene is powerful. I need to know everything you know until I can speak with him. Tchut Security has already requested Archangel's genetic profile. We have legal grounds for denying that request only until they lodge formal charges."

Ztar had vowed not to reveal that Archangel was with Eshaaru. He would keep that promise unless it risked Archangel's liberty and no alternatives remained. Right now, they were far from that being the case. "I can say only that he travels with friends on an archeological search. Where that journey is taking him, I do not know."

Stjarmas'de's face revealed that he caught Ztar's attempt not to lie. "What one is willing to say and what one knows aren't necessarily the same, but I will not press further at the moment. After you speak with Xavier, I request that you report to me immediately. Archangel's PI – is he using that at all or not?"

"He told me only in emergencies."

"This qualifies, but if he's deactivated it, then there's no way to reach him unless Xavier was given another avenue. If we are unable to make contact, the Tchut will request authority to initiate a tracer on his PI."

Ztar nodded. It would be standard practice. However, Archangel's PI was a civilian model in looks only. Gtar-Cro upgraded the device to military intelligence level after Ymoz. "That will do them no good. Archangel's PI is secure from standard tracing."

Stjarmas'de gestured understanding, his reaction showing little surprise. "A wise procedure I assume was taken after the Ymoz kidnapping."

"Probably should have been done sooner, but you are correct."

The lawyer gave Ztar a knowing look. "Gtar-Cro's PIs offer unique features unknown beyond MI," was all that had to be said.

Ztar nodded acknowledgement. "I will try Archangel's PI on the off chance he responds, then comm you as soon as I reach either him or Xavier."

With that, he severed the link to the counselor and turned his attention to the waiting report. By its end, Ztar had many more answers, and they weren't comforting. The murders took place in a commerce/tourist district in the City of Im on Tchutchka Centrus. The three victims were as yet unidentified at the time the report was filed. Cause of death was suffocation and inhibited blood flow to the brain with not a mark on the outside of the bodies. No one witnessed the act. The feather found at the scene was clearly of Human origin as matched to Earth's own genome data and clearly showed mutated strains of DNA. There was no forensic evidence of anyone else at the scene. A witness stated that two people flew away, one carrying the other. Nowhere was there a mention of white wings.

'Odd on two counts. If Archangel was indeed there, why no mention of wings? And if he was with an Eshaaru, why again no mention of wings and why was one carrying the other?' Ztar knew Archangel was capable of strapping his wings close to his body to disguise himself. 'Was Archangel the one being carried? If so, who was the flier? A flier with no wings? Or at least no _visible_ wings,' Ztar walked himself through the possibilities. 'Personal cloaks? Image inducers weren't common – extremely expensive and easily thwarted by sensors – but it would explain the report. As an advanced race, visual deception should be child's play for the Esserru.' Ztar felt he may have the explanation for the witness's observation. The disturbing part was it fit all too well with Archangel being involved.

DNA evidence was difficult to argue against, but Ztar knew Archangel was not a killer unless his or someone else's life was in immediate jeopardy and no other option was available. As deadly as Archangel could be when pushed, he was not telekinetic. He could not strangle without touching the victim. But Tchut authorities would be looking at the second suspect for that ability. Were Esserru capable of such actions? He'd request research for any reference of telekinesis in legend.

As he prepared to send an urgent message to Archangel's PI and then comm Charles Xavier, his heart was heavy. "Oh, my Archangel, what is happening with you?" Ztar's greatest fear was Etagllot, but the galaxy is a dangerous place. Had Archangel's traveling companions placed him in new danger? What did Ztar not know? As soon as he completed the first two comms, his third would be to General Gtar-Cro, whom Ztar knew would be expecting the call. They must try to intercept Archangel on Thael.

Moments later, military comlink satellites across Turzent space sent their signals, mindlessly attempting for hours to connect with a single PI in all imperial space. Finally, the link attempt halted. Not one satellite received the acknowledging handshake.

###

_A/N: Did you think the murders on Tchutchka would simply go away? Nope. The shit's just beginning to hit the fan._

_Preview: Flint gets his first training lesson from Warren. Passion wrests control of Ettwanae and Warren in a weak moment, and if I decide to include it in C28, the team reaches Neu. _

_P.S. Any words of encouragement or feedback are appreciated. Things are very quiet out there in review-land. I'll keep plugging away as Soulbound's visitor count remains a healthy number. Just wish someone would step up and post even a quick "Hi – I'm reading" message. _

_Til next time!_


	29. Chapter 28

_A/N: A longer chapter this time. As promised, Flint gets his first training session. Ztar is becoming increasingly upset with the Tchut situation. Ettwanae and Warren make a decision regarding their personal situation. And, the group arrives at Neu and another step toward retrieving the nodes is taken._

**Chapter 28**

Flint and Warren faced off in the lower level cargo hold turned training center. A scowl accompanied Flint's current mood – hot.

"Remember, no powers. You need to be able to defend yourself without them."

"When won't I have my powers? That isn't fair."

"Life's not fair. Man up," Warren retorted sternly.

"This is bullshit! I should be on the raid. I can handle myself. And everybody's afraid of fire. They try to stop us, I fry 'em!" The kid looked like he was going to spit nails.

Warren sighed. Drama. Teenage I'm-a-kickass-mutant…don't-tell-me-what-I-can't-do drama. He ignored the outburst.

"Lesson one – deflect and escape. I want you to fend off my attack and get out of the box." He pointed to boundaries of the ten-by-ten square; the center of which they stood.

"Is Twae trainin'? I don't see her down here!"

Warren didn't take the bait to argue his decision. If Flint thought he was ready for a mission, Warren would make him prove it. Ettwanae _had_ to go and training her would come when and if Aru calmed down. However, Ettwanae's battle readiness wasn't issue at that moment. Flint's was.

"If you can escape the square, I may – repeat _may_ – reconsider my decision to let you go on the citadel mission."

"Okay. Bring it on!" Flint challenged, with a quick dart of the eyes to the side.

Warren read the signal – the sneaky bastard was going to dart like a rabbit and win the point on a technicality. That was not going to happen. As Warren faked a grab, Flint lunged sideways for the edge of the sparing ring. He didn't make it. In a lightening fast move, Warren knocked Flint's legs out from under him and the kid fell hard to the floor on his hip and shoulder still fully within the 10 by 10 space.

Standing above the fallen firestarter, Warren looked down. "Attempt one. Failure. Get up." Warren held out a hand.

"I can get up myself!" Flint snapped with a blend of humiliation and anger written on the face as he got to feet.

"Then take your position and we try again."

Flint's body tensed and he crouched slightly. The teen was doing his best to look intimidating. Warren was unimpressed and lunged at his target who incredibly stood stock still. With a quick wrist grab, twist, and flick, he had the stunned teen from behind, throat in a chokehold, and one arm hammer-locked between their bodies.

Flint struggled briefly, tried to kick Warren's shin and pull the arm from his throat, and then gave up. "No fuckin' fair! I wasn't ready!"

Warren chuckled at the whining. "And you think your attacker will wait for you to be ready?" That triggered more ineffective squirming and tugging until Warren finally relented and let the kid go.

Flint coughed and rubbed his throat. "But you shoulda said we was startin'!"

Warren only slid the teen a get-real look out of the corner of his eye as he took position. "Okay, this time I'm warning you, ju-u-ust like the bad guys are going to," he announced with thick sarcasm.

Flint went into his apparent 'I'm ready' position and Warren feigned a forward lunge, splaying wings for effect. The kid nearly stumbled backwards over his own feet. "Shit! Fuck! Don't fake me out like that, man!" Warren took advantage of the flustered youth and shot forward, swiped Flint's ankles out from under him, and as ass hit floor, Warren was right on top of him, knee to gut, and hands to throat. Warren smirked amid the flailing legs and hands that tried to dislodge his frontal chokehold.

"Let me up!" Flint squeaked out.

Warren did not.

"Fuck, War. Let me up!"

Warren held him and didn't say a word as Flint glared and swore and punched and flopped around like a dying fish. Finally, the teen ran out of steam. "Are you done now?"

Flint nodded against the Warren's grip. Releasing, Warren got slowly up, then deftly dodged an attempt to kick his feet out from under him.

"Goddamn birdass!"

Warren raised his eyebrows as Flint got up. "Birdass. Can't say I've heard that one before," he replied smoothly and he gave his wings a quick snap. "And here I thought it was my wings that pegged me part bird."

Flint grumbled something Warren chose not to hear as he moved into position.

"'Spose this means I don't go with ya to the citadel." The venom was dripping.

"I suppose you're right."

Flint apparently moved the wrong way and a grimace crossed his face. Warren figured Flint may need extra chair cushioning for a couple days.

"How 'bout three outta four?" Warren watched as Flint began moving around in nervous energy. He would have laid money on…

Then Flint made another quick dart for the side of the square and Warren once again foiled the attempt with an arm block across the abdomen, then a quick knee into the back of Flint's thigh to put him into aerial backward rotation, and then let gravity take his victim from there. The teen landed hard on his back as the wind expelled from his lungs with a whoomph. A stunned Flint blinked up at Warren.

"Get up."

"Fuck you, man!"

Warren dodged a leg kick. "That was childish. Get up."

Flint muttered and scrambled to his feet, decidedly unsteady.

"Are you convinced yet you're not ready?"

Flint shot Warren a look that could melt steel. "You can take your fuckin' lessons and fuckin' cram them where the sun don't shine! Fuckin' stupid. I have powers – I don't need nothin' else!"

"You are so wrong it's pathetic. X-men spend years training and only part of that is to learn how to use their powers. Most of it is exactly the stuff I'm willing to teach you if you have the balls to drop the attitude and learn." Warren crossed his arms and made a point of studying Flint from top to bottom measuring him up. "Which part of your anatomy do you want bruised next?" Warren chided himself briefly for taking a little too much pleasure in the situation.

Flint suddenly sprang toward Warren in an all-to-obvious surprise attack. Warren dodged easily and Flint sailed by and landed with a thud and an umph on his belly from Warren's well-placed undercut.

"We've got the back, ass, left side, and front covered. We're making good progress."

Flint gave the floor a string of expletives before getting to his feet and giving Warren the finger.

"The first thing you need is an attitude adjustment. Second is self-defense lessons."

Flint flipped Warren off again. "If I used my powers, ya wouldn't get close enough for me to hafta use self-defense!" Flint argued.

"And if nothing around you is combustible? If your opponent can't be set on fire? Or you're taken by surprise? Then what?"

"Well, I… There's always something around I could burn. Create a distraction or something. Burn their clothes. That'd get 'em!"

"And if they don't have on clothes?"

Flint laughed. "Yeah, like the bad guys are gonna be runnin' around naked!"

"Sentinels. Shapeshifters. Aliens that don't need outerwear." Warren listed off three examples of those who may not have on flammable clothing.

"I'd just set somethin' around us on fire."

"Rocks, concrete, water, metal rooms…"

Flint started circling Warren nervously. The kid was running out of arguments. Time for an example of what could be done to escape. In a blur of motion, Warren snagged the teen by the back of the collar, and slammed Flint's back into his chest, once again locked the teen into a rear chokehold.

"Now if I turn this chokehold into a blood hold, you'll be unconscious in seconds. It shuts off the blood supply to the brain. How do you break out quickly enough to avoid that?"

"Set those damn feathers of yours on fire!" The strangled words seared with yet another perceived humiliation.

"Pretend I'm not flammable."

Flint repeated the same useless tactics as before. Warren applied pressure to the jugulars. The kid ceased struggling almost instantly as the quick effects of hypoxia affected his brain. He gave the kid just a taste and eased up.

"See how quickly you succumb? All your flailing about gains you nothing but unconsciousness or death. Want to know how to get out of this predicament?"

Flint nodded. Warren could almost feel smoldering heat surround his skin. If the kid lost control… He shook off the thought and visions of burnt feathers.

"I have your head immobilized and you're not going to break the chokehold with your hands, but you've got the rest of your body to work with. That's your ticket. First, you're going to cause me pain. Raise up your knee and slam your heel down to the ground with all your strength."

"What's that gonna do, 'sides get Vo mad at me."

"Do it or we stop your training now," Warren snarled. The kid had to learn to do as he was told without argument.

Flint did as instructed, but with less than effective force.

"Harder," Warren ordered.

Flint repeated the floor stomp, but with more gusto.

"Harder!" he snarled with a sharp squeeze to Flint's neck.

"Mother fucking son of a bitch!" the teen fumed, but did as Warren commanded. This time the force was likely sufficient to cause some real hurt for most people.

"Better. Now you're going to do that to my foot." Warren prepared himself for the coming pain.

Flint jerked. "But I don't wanna hurt ya!"

Warren sighed. "Flint, this is combat training. We're going to hurt each other, but it's necessary. Believe me when I say it will hurt a lot less than when our enemies attack. Now do as you're told and quit with the back-talking. Aim at my foot. Feel with your leg where it is. Raise your leg up and slam your heel into the top of my foot with everything you got."

Flint did as he was told and pain flashed through Warren's foot and his gripped loosen ever so slightly even though he was prepared. "Now see what happened? My grip loosened. That's your opportunity to step wide away from me. At the same time, give me a hard jab into my side with your elbow."

Without retightening his grip, he gave Flint step-by-step instructions on the elbow thrust, teaching him how to add impact by using the power of his thighs to help propel his body into the hit.

"Now with me in more pain and my grip even looser, grab my elbow with one hand and my shoulder with another, thrust your hips back into me then pull my arm and shoulder forward and down as you twist toward the opposite shoulder. Use my weight and change in center of gravity against me. Your goal is for me to hit the floor."

And the lesson continued, repeating the same maneuvers over and over, with Warren enduring the shots of pain, while his healing factor allowed for quick recovery. Flint, though, had no such healing abilities and he was obviously hurting from head to toe.

Warren gave Flint a smile. "Congratulations, you survived your first lesson."

Flint brightened immediately. "That mean I get ta go?"

"No."

Anger reignited in the teen's eyes. "What the fuck? Why _not_?"

"Because you need more training. Keeping Ettwanae safe will be enough challenge. I can't spread myself too thin or we could all be captured or killed. Even I know my limits, Flint. One completely untrained sidekick is enough."

"But I could help!"

"No. That decision is not up for discussion. But if you train hard and learn to take orders, then I'll reconsider for our next mission."

Flint huffed, his arms crossed, and a scowl twisted the young face. "Is Twae and Gatebi gonna train?"

"Ettwanae, yes, at some point. Gatebi will learn some basic self-defense, but I see her playing a different role."

Flint switched attitude with that, and the glower disappeared. "Yeah, she wouldn't be any good in a fight, even trained. Just not who she is. Gabby's more a behind the scenes type."

"Exactly. She'll do best in a logistics role. I may have her learn basic first-aid as well. If either you or she get injured, I want someone else besides me knowing how to handle that."

Flint rubbed his smarting hip. "Wonder if there's anythin' to get rid of bruises in the Empire?" Flint actually chuckled lightly.

"So I take it you want to continue your lessons?"

"Yeah, man! It don't get no better than to learn from an X-man. I wanna be like a ninja." Flint sliced the air with his arms and flat hands to mimic martial arts moves, shouting his kia. "Hoi-ya!" Then he laughed at himself.

Warren chuckled as well. He may actually enjoy teaching Flint if the kid kept the attitude in check. "Well, it won't be exactly martial arts you learn, but I'm going teach you how to defend yourself long enough to have a fighting chance at survival." Flint beamed. "Next lesson is tomorrow. Hit the showers, kid!"

With a bit of a limp, Flint headed for the lift to Volu's second level. Warren watched him leave, smirking. 'Yup, this may be a good idea all around. Good for Flint _and_ for me. Something to do besides sitting alone in the cargo hold reading. Just have to figure out how to do the same with Ettwanae.'

Then he bristled at himself as images of training with Ettwanae sent warmth to various portions of his anatomy. 'For the love of God!' he bemoaned with a heavy sigh. Then he returned to his reading corner to past the time while waiting for his turn at the bathroom. It may have to be more than just a shower…

###

"No, General, I was unsuccessful in reaching Archangel. Xavier also just left me a message that he faired no better. We can only hope the PI is in standby mode and Archangel will contact us as soon as he activates it." Ztar chose not to contemplate more dire reasons their comms were going unreturned.

"Our intercept team missed him at Gnaza Supply by mere hours. The Tchut authorities are questioning the delay. Stjarmas'de is personally reassuring them that Archangel is simply off-link temporarily as he travels."

"That only buys us a little time. After they left Thael, what was their trajectory?"

"All we were able to detect before we lost the trace was their trajectory. Two systems lie in that general linear path, the old Tikz Kelt Neutrality and Egatrac Alliance, which combined contain 20 inhabited worlds. Additionally, there are numerous non-contact and uninhabited systems along that course."

"And if we look at the trajectory precisely and assume no deviation?"

"The possible destinations narrow to six, but even there we must assume a course correction. No planet lies in a straight path to their initial course."

"A wise captain on that ship. One does not make it easy for pursuers. Then all we can do is wait for a signal from Archangel's PI. Have we determined with more certainty about why the tracer is lost? Their cloak? A different FTL technology?"

"Our technicians believe it is linked to the both the ship's FTL drive and cloak. Certain characteristics of the signal loss have lead to a theory that a form of spatial distortion may be involved. Unfortunately, if that is the case, we may not have the technology to overcome the signal loss."

Ztar considered that momentarily. A people who were space faring when Turzents were using stones for tools would naturally still be far ahead of their vaunted Imperial advances. But Gtar-Cro and the comm techs did not know they were dealing with an Esserru ship and that's how it must remain if Ztar was to keep his vow to Archangel. "Very well, General. Notify me immediately if we receive any signal."

"Naturally, my Emperor."

As the PI went blank, Ztar sighed. They needed to reach Archangel. Already the comnet was beginning to hint that perhaps someone as high up as a Royal Court member was being sought for questioning. Leaks were forming as the investigation broadened. It was only a matter of time before the full story was revealed.

With a heavy heart, Ztar spoke the one name he always turned to in matters of public relations. "Jharda." The comm immediately sent its highly encrypted signal out to find the corresponding PI. Jharda was already traveling to Tchutchka Centrus to meet up with Stjarmas'de in anticipation of the media firestorm to come. The voice of the Royal Court of Ztar, head of Planetary Relations, his intended Empress, and mother of the Empire's future ruler had her work cut out for her.

###

Lust exploded within him like a small nuclear bomb. He went blind to everything else and before he realized what was happening, he had slammed her against the wall, their mouths crushed together; groans of desire escaping between breaths.

She tore at his clothes and his mouth. "Mate!" the voice inside commanded. 'Yes!' she agreed in silent enthusiasm. He was what she wanted – all that she wanted. Old bonds be damn! A tsunami of instinctual drive swept away rational thought.

"Oh fuckin' mother of god! I'm going to be _sick._" Flint backed away in repugnance. "Dudes, get a room!" he yelled.

"Ettwanae, stop!" Gatebi yelled grabbing the other woman's arm and promptly found herself flying backward with force, landing hard on her derrière. Flint was next to her in an instant.

"Hey, if she wants to get humped like a bitch in heat, I say let 'er go!" he offered his teenage wisdom. Flint would have preferred using an avian example instead of referencing dogs, but he couldn't come up with anything that got the point across quite as vividly. 'Always next time.'

"_Flint_!" the tone was the perfect blend of shock and censure. "They can't do this, remember? They'll be hurt," she said angrily, shaking his hand loose from her arm.

He snorted. "So they can't actually fuck – let 'em at least have _some_ fun." That got him an icy glare.

"I'll handle this," Volu's voice filled the room.

/ _Ettwanae. Stop now._ /

No response, unless you counted the piece of clothing dropped to the floor.

/ _Ettwanae! If you do not cease, I will take immediate action._ /

Another piece of torn fabric fell.

/ _I am sorry, my Poda. This is for your safety._ / With that, Volu released a narrowly directed sonic burst at the tightly entangled pair.

The pain was excruciating, like a large needle ramming through both eardrums. They cried out unison, cupping hands to ears, the flames of desire instantly extinguished.

"What the hell was that!" Warren demanded, reeling from the attack, the world slightly off kilter.

Flint smirked. "It's called a bucket of ice water, bud."

Gatebi got to her feet and straightened her clothes. "Ettwanae, are you alright?" she asked her friend.

"She'll be a lot better once she can ride his schlong," Flint snickered.

Gatebi sighed a very human sign of disgust.

Ettwanae dropped her hands, the ringing in her ears still loud. She ignored Gatebi's question. "Volu, what were you trying to do?"

"Intervene before you were injured. You must restraint yourselves."

Warren reached out and took Ettwanae's wrist and felt her trembling and realized the same of himself. His groin throbbed. 'Jesus, can't take hitting the brakes like that!' He bit his lip.

Things had been just fine a few minutes earlier. They were sitting around in the lounge, Warren telling stories of his more humorous X-man misadventures at Flint's prompting. Ettwanae was seated near him, too close now in retrospect, but Aru had been quiet that day. He felt her watching him as he wove his tales, laughing with the others at some of the antics of his early days as a mutant crime fighter. He shared silly shenanigans and stunts he, Bobby, and Hank would pull. Her gaze gradually became almost physical, he recalled. It touched his face, cheeks, and lips and slid over his shoulders, along the wings. After that, things were a bit fuzzy. Next thing he knew, they were lip-locked and trying to get each other's clothes off. Warren shook his head to clear it. The effort was only partially successful. There was nothing fuzzy, though, about the ache in his groin or ears, but already the healing factor melting away the aftereffects of the sonic 'bucket of ice water.'

Flint took a couple steps toward Warren. "That was a hell of a lustbuster. You okay, man?"

"You two clear out," Warren said with a wave of his hand at Gatebi and Flint. "Ettwanae and I need to talk."

"Hey, we was just tryin' to help!"

Warren looked at the teen. "I know. Thank you. But Ettwanae and I need some privacy right now."

Gatebi and Flint exchanged worried looks. "Come on, Flint," the Alcab encouraged as she moved toward the exit.

"You two behave yourselves or Volu will zap ya again!" Flint tossed a smirk their way as he disappeared into the hall. The door dilated close.

Warren slid his hands up Ettwanae's arms and rested them on her shoulders. "I don't know how long I can do this," he said in a near whisper. "I _need_ you," he admitted with simplicity.

Tears sprang up instantly in Ettwanae's eyes. "I know."

"It is as I warned. The longing will be great and become torment," the Eshaar'ne reminded.

Warren wasn't ready to give up. "Volu, how far can Ettwanae and I…go…before the bonding is attempted?"

"That is difficult to predict, but the longer you are touching, the closer you come to copulation, the higher the likelihood Aru will take over as it just did and you will lose control of yourselves."

"And Ura – when will that kick in to stop us?"

"Just before you copulate."

"So if we don't get too close to intercourse, the attempt to bond will be held off?" Ettwanae was watching his eyes with intensity.

"In theory, yes. But as soulbounds, the need to mate may be beyond your ability to control. Instinct will take over, as was the case today."

"And what if we ignore the pain and complete the act?"

"I do not believe it is possible to ignore that level of pain, Warren."

Ettwanae was squeezing his forearms. "For argument's sake, Volu, what if we could. What would happen?"

"I am uncertain. I have no recorded memory of that ever occurring."

"Is there a way to force a second bond?"

"Warren, everything says no."

"Just because there is no record of it, doesn't mean it can't happen. If two soulbounds are determined enough to try, maybe it's possible." He didn't like being told something couldn't be done.

Volu was quiet for many moments. "That is true, Warren, but the pain would be excruciating. Even if you have the will, your body may not be capable of the final act under those conditions."

"That is also true, Volu. Yet if there is even a remote chance…"

"Then we should try," Ettwanae completed his thought. "I'm willing to endure much if we can force a bonding."

"The risk you take is more than physical discomfort, Ettwanae. You may be risking permanent Aru damage. And any attempt may intensify the urgings you are already having difficulty resisting. There simply is no way to predict the ramifications. It could be more dangerous than we know."

"So you're saying we shouldn't try?" Warren dropped his hands and took one of Ettwanae's into his, entwining their fingers, almost daring Ura to protest.

"What I am saying is that the price may be very high."

"But the rewards could be great as well! If we can force a bond, then the amulet may activate once we get the other two nodes. And this slow torture we live with every day would be over. We need to be joined, Volu. I'm-" he looked quick to Ettwanae's face, "we're becoming desperate."

Ettwanae nodded. "I agree with Warren. I'm willing to try. We either take the chance or continue as we are. I want to try despite the risks."

Silence hung heavy for many heartbeats. "Your physical bodies can repair a lot of damage. I do not see that as the greatest risk. Lifeforce injury is another matter and worries me most. It could leave you in a catatonic state, insane, dead, or with a much-shortened life expectancy. I simply do not know. Are you willing to accept those possibilities?"

Warren fixed his gaze on Ettwanae. "Catatonic, insane, dead – we wouldn't be aware of what we sacrificed. A shortened life? None of us know when our time is over. We could all die tomorrow regardless if we make the attempt or not. The alternative is to continue living as we are; knowing there was something more we could have tried. If Ettwanae is willing, I say we try."

Ettwanae nodded. "I'm willing. I want to know we've tried everything."

Volu was quiet too long. Warren and Ettwanae exchange worried glances. "What do you think she's thinking?" he whispered.

Ettwanae had a guess. It would be a reasonable assumption. "Volu lost her previous other and it caused her to attempt ru'zha. If she loses me…" Ettwanae shook her head slowly.

"So more is at risk than you and I. Perhaps Volu and as a byproduct, Flint and Gatebi as well."

"Yes. If Volu should kill herself with Flint and Gatebi onboard…" She let the thought dangle.

"Then we shouldn't try unless they are safe. And we shouldn't do this unless Volu is also willing."

Ettwanae nodded. She wasn't yet ready to sacrifice her Eshaar'ne for her own needs. "Volu, I won't do this unless you consent."

Silence still.

"Volu? Did you hear me?" Then Ettwanae reached out with her mind. / _My precious Eshaar'ne, tell me your thoughts._ /

Hesitation. Then, / _I fear for you and for me._ /

/ _Then we will not make the attempt. We will continue searching for the nodes and Etxan'Ir as we have been._ /

/ _But your anguish eats at my soul as it does yours. The pain is too great to bear for time indeterminate._ /

/ _It won't be forever, Volu. We'll find Etxan'Ir._ /

Ettwanae refocused on Warren's face. "Volu and I are talking, Warren. Could you leave me for awhile?" He nodded and was gone. She took a seat.

/ _But_ _how long will that take, Ettwanae? Weeks more, months, years? All the while, you are suffering. Will life become unbearable if we continue as we are? I believe it will._ /

/ _But we would be alive and relatively well. Warren and I can deal with the need – we are strong. We won't be happy about it, but we can endure it as we've been doing._ /

/ _No, Ettwanae. The need will eventually consume you and drive you to desperation or insanity. I cannot condemn you to that fate for my sake. It would be too cruel._ /

/ _Isn't desperation where we are already?_ /

/ _No, Ettwanae. The simple fact you are talking rationally about the situation clearly says you have not reached that point. Desperation will come when you no longer can talk of whether or not, you will only act without thought to the consequences. Now is the time to make a decision, not under the influence of irrational aberration._ /

/ _What are you saying, Volu?_ /

/ _Try._ /

/ _Despite all the risks?_ /

/ _Yes, if it is what you both consent to, fully aware of the risks._ /

/ _And what if the worst happens? What of you?_ /

/ _I have made my decision. Try – for all our sakes. _/

Ettwanae let a tear run down her cheek. "I love you, Volu. So very, very much."

"And I, you, my Poda."

###

Warren waited anxiously for Ettwanae in the hall. Lives possibly hung in the balance of their decision. Would trying be the right thing to do or selfish and foolhardy? If only he and Ettwanae were at risk, he'd try without question, but it wasn't so simple.

Far more quickly than he had thought, Ettwanae emerged from the gathering room. She looked weary. 'Is the news bad?' he wondered, but waited for her to speak.

"Volu agrees we should try."

Warren was actually surprised. After Volu's harsh warnings about protecting Ettwanae, it seemed odd. "She's certain?"

"Yes," the answer was barely audible. "She loves me and wants me to be happy. We must take precautions; I won't risk Gatebi and Flint if the worst happens."

He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning against the wall. Why can't things ever be easy? "Then we should wait until after Neu. I don't want anything to interfere with that mission. If we're successful, maybe we'll decide differently."

"My decision won't change," she said touching his arm and he reopened his eyes.

"The nodes must be top priority." Then he gave her a lopsided grin. "Sex can wait a bit longer." Even the word rewarmed his groin.

He watched her pupils dilate and her irises darken sensually. "If our plan works, you and I are going to be very busy between missions," she promised seductively.

Warren groaned. It was the last thing he needed to hear at that moment. He cleared his throat and backed away from the beautiful temptation that stood far too close. "After Neu. It's a date." Then he quickly excused himself and headed for the back corner of the cargo hold.

###

The next day, they arrived at their destination – Neu. Warren, Ettwanae, Flint, and Gatebi examined the holo image Volu projected at the front of the bridge. There was no missing the structure that could only be the work of advanced technology. Inky black, it stood in bold contrast to the almost ivory-colored stone-faced mountain. Smooth, flawless, without protrusion or recess, it made for an imposing sight. Built into a crevice, the semi-circular structure was wedged between the rocky walls. A narrow path that clung precariously to the side of the mountain led to the citadel, ending at the foot of the black fortress, but with no obvious entry portal. 'Yet there must be a door, or why else the path?' Warren concluded. 'One path to the citadel, one escape route – unless you can fly.' Warren allowed himself a small mental smile.

Flint whistled his appreciation of the structure rumored to belong to the mysterious group known as the Dark Ones. "Impressive! Fits their name."

"What do your scanners tell us?" Warren prompted.

"Unfortunately, Warren, not nearly enough. I am unable to penetrate the structure and the exterior yields little, as well. I can detect no openings or other possibilities for entry. Above the citadel, there is a flattened area that is likely a landing pad," Volu brightened that portion of the hologram, "but I find no pathway from there to the citadel. Perhaps a shielded entrance can be found at that location."

"They gotta come out once in a while, Vo, so there's gotta be doors," the teen pointed out as he popped a piece of candy into his mouth. While on Tchutchka Centrus, he'd restocked his personal stash, enduring another of Gatebi's lectures over stealing anything not essential to sustaining life. Even on Thael with Ztar Almighty's credit card, she'd lectured him over spending money on non-nutritional foodstuffs. Gabby could be a real bitch.

"Doors are likely, Flint. Finding and opening them is another matter," the Alcab pointed out. "Tunnel entrances would be in keeping with fortresses of old. Perhaps a scan further away from the structure would reveal such an opening."

"I found no such entrances or tunnels." Volu's reply came swiftly, implying she'd already thought of that.

Everyone sighed in disappointment. Flint obviously had enough standing, and he moved to a spot on the floor, back against Volu's bulkhead.

Ettwanae pulled on the chain that held her amulet and examined it. "My amulet is quiet. Are you still unable to sense the nodes?"

"I cannot. My memories tell me that should not be possible, leaving only two explanations."

"Either their shields are extremely advanced or the nodes aren't here," Warren offered.

"Correct."

Ettwanae sat in the bridge chair with a heavy exhale and Gatebi sought her own seat on the hard-yet-soft floor of the bridge.

Warren leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, choosing to remain standing. He was liking the citadel situation less and less. "For argument's sake, let's assume the nodes are here. If these Dark Ones are as rumored, they will not take kindly to us attempting to retrieve your property. Knocking at their door and asking to pretty please return the nodes probably won't work." He let sarcasm come through. Flint snickered. Gatebi and Ettwanae rewarded Warren with tiny smiles. "Being serious, now – we'll be taking a huge risk on scant intel. We know little about our adversary and even less about their facility. And should we find a way in, which is looking to be a challenge in itself, we have no idea where to begin searching for the nodes. From a strategy perspective, a raid on the citadel is foolhardy. The odds of finding the nodes are extremely low. Odds of getting out alive with the nodes are even lower."

Ettwanae already looked defeated. He wished he hadn't had to be so blunt about their chances, but as leader of their little expedition, it was his job to ensure their safety. A raid on the mountainside fortress would be perilous at best. 'God, how I wish the X-men were there. Our chances would be vastly improved.'

"If you gain access to the citadel, Warren, then Ettwanae's amulet should detect the nodes, unless they are further shielded."

"Like a homing beacon?" Flint asked.

"Not precisely, but the amulet will respond to their proximity when it draws close."

Ettwanae nodded at Flint. "Like it did at the museum a year ago."

"We still need more information. I will not send us blindly into an already precarious situation. What are our options? Ideas?" he asked of everyone, looking from face to face. Blank expressions were his only answer. He was about to suggest a scouting mission to the suspected landing pad – risky in itself, but he saw no other option – when Volu spoke.

"I have been listening to the Neus who live in the village beneath the fortress. Their language is simple and easily learned. Apparently, the fortress inhabitants are viewed as gods. They have made several references even in our brief time here about service to the gods on the mountain. Perhaps more can be learned by visiting those people."

"Why not just keep using your super-ears, Vo? Why go mingling with the natives?" Flint countered. He clearly looked uncertain about the suggestion. "They're like back in the old days yet, right? Spears and arrows and the whole bit? They'd probably see us as demons or somethin' equally good to kill – maybe even eat!"

Gatebi laughed. "Flint, sometimes your imagination runs ahead of your thinking brain. Why would they want to eat us?"

"Cannibals – they could be cannibals. It's _possible_." Flint crossed his arms as he defended his imagination.

"I have heard no references to cannibalistic tendencies, Flint. I believe them to be mostly peaceful as the weapons I have detected fall into typical hunting tools classification."

"Oh, yeah. Like for hunting aliens! They'll freak, I'm telling ya. Just like a lot of humans would freak if an alien walked up to them on the street lookin' for info. 'Hi, I'm from out there,' " Flint started pointing up, " 'and need to know 'bout your so-called gods so's I can steal some of their stuff. Actually, it's my stuff, but that's a long story, so you've just gotta trust me. Ya mind tellin' me what you know 'bout those guys on the mountain?' Ri-i-ight," Flint nodded with exaggeration, "_that's_ gonna go over well!"

Warren couldn't help but chuckle. Flint was living up to his role as comic relief yet again. "Okay, I'll give you that, Flint. We'll need some sort of cover story if we go down there. Volu's idea is about the only option I see right now. Perhaps the Neus can give us something useful on the fortress or the Dark Ones."

"They have already shown a predisposition to belief in gods. Perhaps approach them as messengers or emissaries of those gods," Gatebi offered.

"Go on," Warren encouraged.

"Most peoples have spiritual leaders. That would be the person likely to possess the type of information we need. What if we send the two most awe-inspiring of us to visit their cleric? Under that guise, you could ask questions to test his or her knowledge and not sound as if it is you who is ignorant."

Warren nodded. The idea had promise. "We'd need to know enough to sound convincing, or the cleric may wonder if he's being tricked by evil forces into revealing what he should not. Something to be cognizant of," Warren cautioned.

"You should both review the files I collected during my Dark Ones investigation," Volu noted.

"And I'm making an assumption here, Gatebi, that you're referring to me and Ettwanae being the ones to visit the village?"

She part with a wide grin. "I can't think of a more breathtaking sight than two winged beings landing in the middle of their village, can you?"

"And if the meet 'n greet party isn't so welcoming, a phase gun blast or two should settle them down in no time," the teen opinioned. "Now that'd be awe-inspiring to a bunch of savages."

"The Neu are far from savages, Flint," Volu chided. "They have a very complex society. The village is actually quite impressive for their stage of development."

"Yeah, well, once they got computers and HDTV, I'll be impressed," Flint snorted.

Warren glanced first at Ettwanae in her captain's chair, then Flint and Gatebi parked on the floor. "Unless anyone has a better idea, we'll go with Gatebi's suggestion." He saw nothing to indicate any other strokes of brilliance. "Okay, let's flesh out the details."

Over the next hour, they determined how best to approach the villagers, using what Volu discovered in her monitoring of the people she learned called themselves Booettu. When done, Warren decided to synch up with the village's day/night pattern before embarking on their scouting mission, Using a sleep-aid that somewhere along the way Gatebi had wisely obtained, they rested until the Neu village's morning. Everyone needed to be fresh. Meanwhile, Volu remained vigilant to any signs that the Dark Ones had detected their presence.

###

Seven days had passed since Ztar learned of the situation on Tchutchka Centrus. Seven days they had been trying to reach Archangel. Seven days of stalling and trying to appear as if they weren't. Tchut authorities were no longer buying what Jharda and Stjarmas'de were selling as explanations. One Tchut newscast stated authorities were close to submitting a Full Order against a top-level government official in the triple murder case. If that happened, Archangel would be publicly named as the prime suspect. The news had sent his blood pressure skyrocketing.

Ztar was one very unhappy Emperor.

The head of Military Intelligence faced his ruler on that particularly irritating day. The energy build-up leaching off the powerful mutant was causing his PI to transmit a less than clear image of the Emperor as he took Gtar-Cro's comm call. What Gtar-Cro could see did not reassure. Ztar was pacing…never good – another sign of intense agitation in the man.

"General, I want Archangel. I don't care what our subspace comm specialists say – I want them to figure out a way to trace his PI and I want it done _now_!"

The Emperor's deep voice reverberated off the hard surfaces of the ready room on Gtar-Cro's cruiser. "My Emperor, please if you give me a moment-"

"We don't _have_ any more _moments_, General!" Ztar snarled his interruption. "Our Court is under fire. Tchut Security is looking for blood. Archangel must be _found_!"

Gtar-Cro tried again to get out his news. "My Emperor…_Ztar_," he used the Emperor's name, which he rarely did. "We may have done that just that."

Ztar stopped in his tracks and swung to face the screen. "What? You found a way to trace his PI despite the interference?"

"No, but we may have a lead on Archangel's whereabouts. Someone who was standing outside the shop in Im overheard Archangel mention the planet Neu to his travel companion as they left."

Ztar's frown only deepened as he started back toward his desk. "I don't recall a planet by that name."

"It's a primitive world, but inhabited."

"A non-contact world? What would Archangel be doing there?" He sat down heavily. The strain of the past several days was etched in his features.

The image on Gtar-Cro's PI viewscreen cleared. "We do not know, but the shop patron said Archangel mentioned the planet quite clearly. I have a ship enroute."

"Could the man called Tider confirm? Did Archangel say anything to him?"

"No."

"This witness checks out?" Ztar squinted coldly at his general.

"Yes. Although the woman would not submit to a telepathic probe, she was carefully interrogated and we believe she is being truthful and her recollection accurate."

"Who's ship is enroute? Who are you sending?"

"I've dispatched the Tre'endt."

Ztar blinked. "That's _your_ cruiser."

"Exactly, my Emperor. Fortuitously, we are roughly four days away at our maximum speed. With luck, Archangel will still be there when we arrive."

"You've no closer ships?"

"Closer distance wise, yes. Any that can be there sooner? No."

Ztar nodded understanding. The Tre'endt was the fastest class ship in the Imperial fleet – Royal. Few people had the security clearance to know exactly how fast. Gtar-Cro's course of action left Ztar with a potentially sticky problem. The General was not privy to with whom Archangel traveled. Ztar's vow to Archangel was possibly in jeopardy. The Tre'endt was the Empire's most advanced ship, aside from Ztar's Mi-Lartui. Would the General discover something he should not with the cutting-edge technology at his disposal? More troubling was the thought of Archangel and the Esserru's reaction when their ship detected Gtar-Cro's vessel entering the Neu system. Few conclusions could be drawn other than they were somehow tracking Archangel.

Ztar shook his head. No. Archangel needed to be located. He had to allow this to happen. Assuming, that is, the lead was legitimate and Archangel was still there when the General arrived. Ztar would deal with the fallout later.

"My Emperor?" Gtar-Cro's questioning voice revealed he picked up Ztar's hesitation.

"Good, General. That is good. But do _not_ act without my direct order, is that understood? You are to confirm his presence only – you are not to contact or intercept unless I authorize that action. You are to do nothing that reveals you have even detected their ship. Am I clear?"

Gtar-Cro's usually unreadable face showed surprise, albeit someone who did not know the man well may have missed it. "Yes, my Emperor. Confirm only. No action."

###

Neu was a mountainous world; everywhere Volu had scanned showed at least low ranges. The highest peaks dwarfed Mount Everest, soaring to over 45,000 feet, Warren estimated converting from imperial measurement. 'A whole world encompassing my favorite environment – could live here,' Warren imagined. Yet the air was heavier and felt almost thick. It would sustain them, though strenuous activity would be hampered, Volu warned. Added to that was the unexpected warmth – much more so than you'd expect at the elevation the village rested. So by the end of their flight from the valley Volu had chosen for their hideaway, Warren and Ettwanae were winded. The trick was not to show it – messengers of the gods should not be out of breath.

He made certain they were seen coming from the direction of the citadel and did their very best to look awe-inspiring, as Gatebi had put it. A few sharp-eyed Booettu spotted them from a distance and went running inside. Others ducked into their stacked-stone dwellings or hid behind whatever was handy to watch warily. As their feet touched down, Warren kept wings splayed just a little longer than necessary. 'Leave them with that image.' He pulled the handheld translator from his pocket Gatebi dug out from storage, and waited for someone to approach. The feel of many sets of watching eyes was almost tactile.

It wasn't long before three Booettus approached. Two males bore weapons that looked like a cross between a long spear and short-blade scythe. Between them walked a female, ornately dressed. 'Village priestess?' he wondered. 'Tribal leader at a minimum.' Volu's scans revealed females and males differed in outward appearance in only one easily observed respect – females were embellished with a forehead mark of various designs above the left eye. Volu believed they were crest marks or similar. It would in keeping with a matriarchal society that women would carry heraldic symbols.

Ettwanae leaned toward him and whispered. "Volu says this is their cleric, Aunu."

The Booettus were a tall, lean people. Warren estimated the shortest of the trio was a good four inches taller than he was. One of the males likely topped out near seven feet. Their deep, golden-brown skin was in stark contrast to the large, bright green eyes. Facial features included two eyes, a barely-there nose, and mouth in the standard locations, but they were bald and had no eyebrows. The likely ears were large and shaped more like discs on either side of their head. Some of their height came from the long neck, half again longer than a typical Human's. Their thin bodies were taut and well muscled, with large hands and feet. On the hands gripping the spears, Warren saw no nails, and counted only four digits.

Out of the corner of his eye, Warren saw others gather in the nooks and recesses of the nearby stacked-stone buildings, all with the same weapons. He would not let anyone get too close. If he and Ettwanae needed to make a hasty retreat, he wanted plenty of room for take-off. "No fast movements," he whispered to Ettwanae. "Stay loose, don't look like you feel nervous," he whispered back while relaxing his wings that had unconsciously pulled tight to his body. Ettwanae did likewise.

As the nervous-looking group came within a few yards, he gently raised his hand in a halt signal. The meaning was apparently understood as the greeting party stopped. With translator held out in front of them in his upturned palm, Ettwanae began. "We bring you greetings from the Ediu," she said invoking the name the Booettu used for the citadel inhabitants. They decided after learning females were likely in charge that Ettwanae would do most of the talking, at least initially.

Volu had done her job well as there was no hesitation in their response. The two males dipped their heads and extended an upturned hand while the female extended both hands slowly from her sides, held them still briefly, then pulled them to her chest. "Ediu greetings bless us and keep us safe. We humbly accept."

"Aunu, we have come to speak with you. May we do so privately?"

The woman hesitated, her guards tensed, and Warren did likewise, but careful not allowed his body to reveal that.

"The Ediu have not sent your kind before. What are we to call you?"

"Angels," Warren blurted out. Something told him not to let Ettwanae speak her true species name. Aunu's eyes darted to his with obvious surprise he could read even without knowing her species.

"He speaks with the enthusiasm of a young one, Aunu. The Ediu hold us for only the most important of messages. They have concerns. Perhaps we can speak quietly."

An expression crossed the woman's face that could mean worry or confusion. Warren smiled inwardly at Ettwanae. She was attempting to redirect any rising suspicions. Several anxious moments passed in silence.

"As Ediu command, I shall obey," the cleric finally said dipping her head. Aunu and her escort turned to head toward one of the nearby stone structures of the small village. As Aunu entered, the males stood one to each side to flank the entrance. Ettwanae and Warren followed inside, where much cooler air greeted them. Warren breathed in mild relief. He never was a lover of heat and Neu's sun was strong. A fire ring encircled with many short, simple benches lined with colorfully woven blankets anchored the center of the one-room building. The corresponding hole in the roof above the pit would allow smoke to escape. Many handcrafted items hung from the walls. 'Perhaps religious items and this is their church of sorts,' Warren conjectured.

Aunu gestured toward the benches and they sat. She held herself stiffly, obviously nervous or perhaps somewhat fearful of what was to come. Ettwanae waited for Aunu to speak.

"Have my people done something to anger the gods?" she asked.

"No, your people have not."

"Do you come with a warning? Will the mountain shake again?"

'Earthquake warning?' Warren immediately speculated. Did the Dark Ones predict those and alert the villagers?

"We come with no warnings," Ettwanae answered. She put an empathetic, but firm look on her face. "Their concern is with you, Aunu."

The alien's large eyes widened. "With me? But why?"

"As spiritual leader, your words and actions carry great weight. They must speak purely and correctly. The Ediu must know the people are hearing truth."

"But I follow the teachings exactly!" The woman was beginning to look afraid. "The words are my mother's and my mother's mother, precisely as given to us by the first ones. Our ceremonies are as prescribed – I am certain of it."

Ettwanae gave Aunu a reassuring nod of the head. "Your ceremonies are as commanded. Concern lies elsewhere – in other knowledge. Casual talk of the citadel and other events. We were sent to hear from your own lips what you know and what you've shared. Then we are to take those words back."

Aunu's demeanor grew even more frightened. "I am being judged?" she asked in a whispery voice.

Ettwanae smiled. "No, Aunu. This is not judgment. This is teaching. If any of your words are misguided, you will be given the true words by the Ediu so that you and your people are bearers only of truth."

Warren heard the private sarcasm in Ettwanae's words. If only the unwitting Booettu knew who their gods really were – aliens with a less than honorable reputation.

"A cleansing?" she asked what Warren interpreted as relief. Although Warren had no idea what a cleansing entailed, it appeared Aunu was not fearful of it.

Ettwanae's eyes darted to Warren – he read their hesitation and gave her an ever-so-slight nod. So far, she was performing brilliantly and he was proud of Ettwanae.

"Yes, to remove any misunderstandings or misinterpretations."

Aunu touched her hands to her chest in apparent religious symbolism. "I wish only to bring the wisdom of the Ediu to my people. What must I do?"

Warren sighed. Ettwanae had played the role flawlessly and unless they made a major mistake, they were about to hear everything the priestess knew of the Dark Ones.

It was some time later they emerged from what they'd learned was the village community room, which also served as a place of worship. Warren looked around at the dozens of people who had apparently gathered to wait for their matriarch to reemerge and explain the winged visitation.

Ettwanae turned to the woman who had trusted in her gods' messengers and provided them with much information, none of which would be used to help their gods. Some of what they learned was very disturbing. These people benefited little from their mountainside guardians, and may be giving far more than they actually understood. Slaves being one such unwitting gift.

Warren was anxious to leave the village and make their next stop – to see a woman who Aunu said she cast out as a heretic. They'd learned where the exiled villager lived by convincing Aunu that as emissaries of the Ediu, they were obligated to attempt to bring her back into the fold. Aunu said a woman named Taala claimed to have lived for a time in the citadel. She was someone they must to talk to.

###

_A/N: We're building toward climax of the first major story arc – the citadel mission. Next chapter, Warren and Ettwanae seek the outcast Taala, Elder Phai is not happy, and more on the mess Warren left behind on Tchutchka Centrus. Stay tuned!_


	30. Chapter 29

_A/N: Hello everyone! I know you're out there reading, though aside from one faithful reviewer, the rest of you are but ticks on my visitor count. Don't get me wrong, I love seeing those numbers go up, but that just doesn't thrill me the way reviews do. So please consider dropping in a comment._

_Enough begging. Let's get to the story._

**Chapter 29**

The small, remote stone hut crouched beneath a small crag, its back against the grey rock, with a single entrance and no windows. A roughly hewed door hung from thick straps. Everything was neat and orderly; its occupant apparently took pride in the rustic abode. Next to the structure, a carefully tended garden held a bountiful display of various growing things. Volu had told them the Booettu were a blended hunter/gatherer and agrarian society. Taala apparently had skill as her crops looked robust. Landing just beyond the garden, Warren still hadn't spotted the outcast female. Was she inside?

Digging out the translator once again, he called. "Taala! We come as friends! We wish only to speak with you."

They scanned the surroundings again with amazingly acute vision. Nothing stirred save the warm breeze and the flora. Warren took in a deep breath and the aromas of Neu. It was quite beautiful in the little mountain meadow. The vegetation was alien-looking from his perspective, but at least there was vegetation. Funny how being inside a living being – Volu – could feel sterile.

"Perhaps she's hunting. Volu says no one is here," Ettwanae offered having telepathically asked the ship to scan the area for a second time. "Should we wait or return later?"

"I prefer to wait awhile. It's nice here." He longingly gazed up at the magnificent, snowcapped mountains. The nearest peak had to top out over 20,000 feet. The thermals would be fantastic. Then he looked at Ettwanae, putting a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Maybe we could accomplish two things – see if we can spot her from the air and enjoy a little romp in the sky."

"The heavy air won't make it as enjoyable, but if _you_ want to…" She didn't sound at all enthused.

"I don't know about you, but we've been cooped up for seven days and I need some air time that's just for fun. Don't you feel the need?" He was puzzled, stretching his wings in anticipation of the updrafts a mountain of that size could generate.

"We flew over to the village, then here, and we still need to fly back to Volu – that's enough for me in this atmosphere. I'll watch you and wait for Taala."

Warren wasn't keen on leaving Ettwanae and would not risk being separated. "I'll stay then. We'll wait together for a while. If she doesn't show up soon, we head back. Volu can tell us when Taala returns."

"No, if you want to go, go. I'll be fine. I can see all around me – no one can sneak up."

"You're forgetting about the Dark Ones."

Warren got a sense of rising irritation in Ettwanae, but when her mouth opened to speak, no words came out. Instead, her eyes darted across the meadow. "Volu says a Booettu female approaches from that direction."

"No decision required," Warren sighed. He'd really wanted to ride Neu's updrafts.

Several minutes later with Volu's warning the native was nearing, they ducked behind a rocky mound to wait, not wanting to frighten her off prematurely. Keen vision clearly made out simple, homespun clothing and a wrap that covered the woman's face leaving only a slit for the eyes. 'Disfigured?' was the first thought that came to Warren. She carried a spear in one hand and the limp body of some animal in the other. 'Definitely hunting.'

When the woman was next to the garden, Warren nudged Ettwanae that it was time. Stepping out slowly from behind the rocks, he palmed the translator. "Taala?" he asked as gently as possible. The figure whirled, spear up in attack position, dropping the meal on the ground. Her eyes locked on him, then their greenness widened and her mouth opened. She managed to keep the weapon aimed despite her shock.

"Who – what are _you_?"

They'd determined while waiting, their story would be different for Taala. Aunu had shared that Taala's supposed return from the Ediu and the dead had changed her, speaking of beings that weren't gods but demons that resurrected those that had died for laborers. She'd claimed those living in the citadel were not the friends of the Booettu. It was heresy, of course, and when Aunu and the others couldn't convince Taala otherwise, they had no choice but cast her out. Perhaps living apart would eventually cure whatever ailed their former friend, Aunu had hoped.

"We are travelers seeking knowledge and wish only to talk with you." The spear remained aimed at his chest. "We will not harm you, Taala." Warren saw in the woman's stance that she was quickly recovering from the initial surprise. Perhaps she'd already seen too much to be truly shaken by their appearance.

"If knowledge is what you seek, you should speak with Aunu in the next valley. She is the wise one." The words were tinged with bitterness.

"We have, Taala," Ettwanae said from beside Warren. "She told us what she sees from her understanding. Now we wish to hear the truth."

That apparently hit the mark. The spear lowered slightly. "Truth about what?"

"Those in the black fortress. The beings we call the Dark Ones."

The bright green eyes narrowed behind the cloth and the spear relocked on them. "Trickery! They sent you. I will not be taken again!" The voice was determined with hints of alarm.

"We are not trying to trick you. They did not send us," Ettwanae reassured. "You were right when you warned your people the Ediu are not gods or friends. They do not seek to help your people, only use them. We are not friends of the Ediu. They took what belongs to me and I want to take it back. We need your help to do that."

The mostly hidden face was unreadable, but the eyes and body told Warren much. The woman was torn. "Taala, we want to hear your story. It is truth, where Aunu's beliefs have been twisted to the Ediu's purposes. She cannot help us as we hoped. We believe you can," he again played into what Aunu had shared of Taala's tale.

The speared lowered part way, but still in a defensive position. They were gaining ground.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Ettwanae and this is Warren."

The woman rotated the spear vertically and hit its scythe end into the ground hard. Obviously, she had come to a decision concerning them. "_What_ are you?" she demanded.

Ettwanae glanced at Warren, the question plain on her face. What did they have to lose at this point? A loner deemed a heretic on a primitive planet. He nodded.

"Eshaaru."

"Esh-aar-u," she repeated slowly, almost to herself. Then her eyes widened. _"Attarru?_ Gods of the Beautiful Light?"

Warren was uncomfortable with where he was certain that short question was leading. "Just travelers from far away, Taala, nothing more. We have questions about the fortress, if you are willing to answer them."

She stood silently for several seconds, looking each of them over carefully, as if taking them in fully for the first time. "On the high mountain, light will battle the darkness that has fallen over the people. Be watchful of the signs. Be ready, for the very soul of Neu is the spoil." She spoke as if reciting. "I will tell you of the evil that lives in the black fortress." Then she snatched up her catch and marched with a resolute walk toward the hut as the sun began flirting with the tallest mountain peaks.

###

Flint was hungry. His winged shipmates may not make it home for the evening meal. That meant he and Gatebi would likely just scrounge on their own.

'God, give anything for a Big Mac and fries!' he lamented. Food in space was okay, but junk food wasn't the norm apparently, or at least wasn't on the list of what Gatebi and Volu decided was good eats. He had to admit, though, he'd slimmed down since hooking up with Twae and company. The small but worrisome paunch he'd developed after his sixteenth birthday was gone. If he was forced to admit it, Flint thought he looked pretty good, despite being cooped up aboard a small ship most of time. Maybe Warren would buy some workout equipment next resupply if he asked. Then he could get really buff. Not much else to do in the middle of space – might as well hit the weights.

Passing through the dilating door to the galley, what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks. 'Oh, god.' Dread filled him. Memories of days – weeks – of walking on eggshells and cowering in his quarters drove fear into his heart. This was bad. Or was it? Maybe it was Warren's. Was that better or even worse? A shiver ran the length of his spine imagining what the kick-ass X-man might be like during "that time." Suddenly, there was no doubt. Warren molting had all the makings of living a horror movie.

Bending down he picked up the feather that had found its way next to the cold storage compartment and examined it as if it would tell him what prompted its separation from the wing. Perhaps it was dropped for a different reason all together. So far, no sign of mood swings or touchy dispositions. Yet it was only a matter of time. Sooner or later, Twae and War would both molt. Then his chest constricted. 'Shit. What if they molt at the same time? That happens, I'm outta here! Gone. Twae's last time of year was bad enough. Two freakin' birds storming 'round like rabid vultures would be pure hell!'

He _could_ ask Vo. She'd likely know if either was heading that direction. Instead, he decided to watch wearily. Tossing the feather into Volu's recycling port, Flint pushed thoughts of impending apocalyptic events aside. Right now, his stomach was growling. He hoped it didn't foreshadow a different kind of growling.

###

Once inside the cramped structure, Taala indicated they should sit where she spread out a couple animal skins over the dirt floor around a fire pit in the center of the room. Dirty feathers would be dealt with later. A pilot candle was used to light some of the many others scattered about the one-room hut. It wasn't until then that she unwrapped her face. Warren could see no signs of the disfigurement he assumed they'd see. Her face was unmarred and it puzzled him.

Taala picked up on some facial cue, and rubbing her eyes, she spoke for the first time since they entered. "The Dark Ones, as you call them, did this to me. Gave me night sight and now the sun burns my eyes. I have gradually been able to go out into the light for longer periods, but it is painful. The wrappings help. Mostly, I live during the night."

Taala joined them on the floor, having grabbed a crude knife, a couple shallow bowls, and a large cutting board of sorts to begin gutting her catch. Warren noted that Ettwanae's eyes were everywhere but on the butchering.

"Why don't you start at the beginning," Warren prompted as an odd smell wafted off the butterflied animal. Orangish-brown liquid began oozing from the soon-to-be meal. "Tell us how you ended up in the citadel."

"They took me as they do all those who become their thrall – upon death," Taala began as she reached inside and started disemboweling the animal. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ettwanae's hand come up to her mouth. He hoped she wouldn't need to run out. "I had fallen and was mortally injured, though Aunu did her best to heal me, she could not. They came that night and took me – a great honor, the Ediu tell our people. Some are chosen at death to reside in their presence as reward for keeping their ways."

Her hands dripping with what likely passed for blood, she plopped the various internal organs into two separate wood-like bowls. Warren could only guess that some would be eaten and some discarded or used for other purposes. Ettwanae made an odd, throaty sound and he glanced her way. She looked a little green even in the low light.

"Reward!" Taala nearly spat out the word as she dug around the animal's innards. "Punishment and torture – that is what the Ediu offer. When I woke in their place, I was fully healed of my wounds. They told me that I would do as they commanded without complaint. There was no escape except true death. Somehow, I could understand their words, though they were not speaking my people's words. And they changed my eyes so I could see in their dark fortress. There is little light there – only blackness and deeper blackness." Then she waved the knife in the air angrily. "Not exactly truth. It is near blackness. Shadows upon shadows. I was immediately given to one house where I was to clean and keep all things perfect. Others are tasked with tending to their masters personal needs, but never speak of that or punishment comes. Still others are used to supply sustenance to the Ediu," Taala shivered and stopped her work and stared at her hands. "I thanked the true gods that my fate was not that, but I feared every moment they may decide otherwise."

"What do you mean by sustenance?" He was almost afraid to ask.

"They _eat_ them?" Ettwanae asked in horror, having apparently found her voice once again.

"No. They take life and strength from them. Whenever an Ediu feds, the screams echo in the halls. Those whose _honor_ it is to serve as sustenance do not die, but most wish they would." Disdain filled the hut. "The pain is very bad and leaves them near death until their soul heals. I covered my ears at first, but then forced myself not to hear. Hard to work when your hands are on your head. And if you are caught being slow in your duties…" Her green eyes went dark at memories likely quite painful.

"I am so sorry, Taala," Ettwanae whispered. "And Aunu did not believe when you told her these things?"

"No, she said my mind had grown sick. She tried to tell me what I saw was not real; that I spoke only lies and delusions and would taint the people. Not real? The cries of our people in that dark and horrible place not real?" Taala's voice raised and shook with emotion. "How could she know? I lived it. I felt it! The Ediu are evil – they are not the gods of our ancestors." She plunged her knife into the dirt floor. "Less than three generations ago, we believed in the gods of light and love. Then they came and it all changed. They said we had been misguided and misunderstood the teachings. That the truth is darkness is all powerful and light submits to dark. Dark is eternal for when the light fades, there is only the blackness – _that_ is the truth, they told our mothers' mothers. My people began to believe and abandoned the old ways when the Ediu saved our village when the mountains shook and spewed liquid fire." She pulled out the knife and not so delicately began skinning the gutted animal. "But my mother secretly taught me the ways of our mother's mother's mother and all the mothers before. She and I and a few others still believe in Attarrus, but we are too few in number. The believers come to see me occasionally, but fear what Aunu did to me will be done to them. I tell them to leave the village or when they die, they could be taken as I was – serving false and cruel gods."

The picture she was painting was not a pretty one. Aliens were abusing these people and it angered Warren.

"Taala, can you draw us a map of the citadel?"

"I can speak of the areas I walked. Many rooms and corridors I was not allowed, but we spoke amongst ourselves and I have some knowledge of the other houses."

Ettwanae sighed in obvious relief as Taala finished prepping her catch and set aside the bloody innards and skin. She then rose to wash her hands in a water-filled jug. She then grabbed kindling from the pile in the same corner, a small, lidded container, and a shallow scoop of water; then settled back down in front of the fire pit.

"What do you mean by houses?" Warren asked.

"The Ediu are of several families we believed. Each family lives in their own section of the fortress. There are four houses." She poured a bit of reddish, powdery substance from the container in the pit and placed twigs and grasses over it.

"How many Ediu are there?" Warren wanted to know.

The Booettu dribbled a small amount of water on the powder and twigs. At first the powder simply sputtered, but within seconds, began to burn. 'Very usual – fire started with water,' Warren thought. 'At least it looks like water. Much easier way to start a fire than sparking with a flint.' As the grasses and twigs caught, Taala added a few larger sticks.

"We counted 32 when I was there."

Warren cringed. The citadel must be larger than it appeared from below to house 32 beings plus their slaves. "And what do they look like exactly?"

Taala shot a look up to him. "You do not know?"

"We've never met one."

Taala looked down at her fire as it grew and added more sticks. "Perhaps it is better that you never do." Her voice was dark.

"Please, Taala…" Ettwanae prompted when the woman remained silent in her thoughts.

"They are living shadow – black and horrible to look upon. No face to see, though that is likely a blessing. They walk upon six legs like animals. And they are strong – and cold…like high mountain ice .Ediu are a childhood nightmare come alive. " Taala shuddered with the telling. "They are evil."

"How did you escape?"

She raised her eyes to meet Warren's. "I believe the true gods of Neu guided and protected me. Some of us who had served longer were told to retrieve sajas from the mountainside for a few of my people who had fallen ill with fever. Sick slaves are not good workers. We had no choice, and so we left the fortress to search for the healing herb. The sun made our eyes burn like hot coals, but we somehow managed to crawl to the area where the Ediu told us to go. I tore cloth from my clothes and used it to partially cover my eyes and I ran. Their arrogance allowed me to escape…they assumed I wouldn't run too far in the sun. Likely, they will never make the mistake again."

Warren was impressed and perplexed. "Why don't they retrieve you?"

She suddenly looked concerned and glanced toward the door. The sun had dropped behind a mountain peak and the long valley twilight period had begun. She rose and lit more candles until the room glowed. Then it clicked. The Dark Ones couldn't tolerate light – Tider's tidbit from someone's old journal. Warren noticed that Taala squinted in the increased lumens.

She settled back down at the fire and added larger pieces of a woody material. "I normally sleep days and at night I stay vigilant and never allow the light to grow low. I don't really know if that's why they have left me be, or because being outside the citadel is too uncomfortable, or another reason. No one has ever seen an Ediu outside the fortress except when they come for the dead. I have come to believe they simply aren't bothering with me. My people have cast me aside as a heretic. I have been free for two full cycles."

Warren suddenly had an inspiration. He'd brought several pairs of sunglasses with him – best money could buy. Tomorrow, he'd bring Taala a pair. They could be life-altering for the woman.

The fire sufficiently hot, Taala poked a skewer though the carcass and set the rod on the roughly carved spit brackets. "You will join me for the meal?" she asked, actually looking hopeful.

Ettwanae and Warren exchanged glances. He worried about flying after dark with the Dark Ones in the next valley over. Volu had sensed no indications the Dark Ones knew they were there, but they had to assume their presence was known.

"No, Taala, but we thank you greatly for the invitation. I do not feel comfortable being out at night so near the citadel."

She nodded understandingly. "Wise. It will be dark soon – we should get to your map." Taala drew the layout of the citadel in the dirt floor as best as she could recollect and had surmised from talking with other slaves. Her sketch showed a wedged-shaped interior, with a curved front that followed the semi-circular contour of the visible exterior. Four "houses" divided the wedge into smaller pie-slices, the points coming together at a large, main chamber that Taala called the sanctum. Off the sanctum was the keeping room.

"The keeping room is not to be entered by anyone other than Ediu, and even then, only the high-ranking of each house," she explained. "Though, even if I had tried, that door would not have opened to me."

"So whatever is in there is important. Any ideas?"

"I got a glimpse twice when the door was opening. I saw a red light that shone from ceiling to floor in the center of the room with small, colored stones hanging within. To one side was another light of purple with what looked like a piece of jewelry or a talisman. I could not see what the third light held for the Ediu were standing before it."

Ettwanae's eyes darted to Warren. 'The nodes!' the blue orbs declared with excitement.

Taala caught the silent exchange. "Is that what you seek?" she asked Ettwanae.

With a nod, Ettwanae confirmed. "Colored stones are hat they took from me." She pulled her amulet out. "They belong to this – here and here," she explained pointing to the empty places. "Those stones are very precious to me. They are of my family – all I have left of my parents…" Her voice trailed off. "I only pray what you saw were _my_ stones."

"Did any of your people say they had seen more of that room?" Warren directed the conversation back on track – it was growing darker.

Taala turned the meat on the spit. It was beginning to smell quite wonderful. Warren's stomach protested its empty condition.

"Not that I recall."

"How did you gain entry to other rooms?"

Taala held up her hand. On the palm was a small, triangular mark. "I placed my hand over a special place near the door and it opened _if_ I was permitted to pass through."

"Does the mark open any exterior doors? Do you know where those are?"

"I am certain exits would not open to me, but I do know where two such doors are." She pointed to two spots on her drawing – one coincided with the path to the citadel; the other located at the rear of the complex. 'Perhaps an access point for the landing pad?' Warren wondered silently. "Do you know if anyone comes and goes through the back exit?"

"Others of their kind came regularly." Her face twisted with obvious painful memory. "The visitors needed sustenance and my people were fed upon more frequently. It was a great relief when the extra Ediu left."

"Any particular timing to those visits?"

She thought about that question, turning the meat. "It was hard to know time within the fortress. I believe the visitors came during moonset – it's when the mountain is darkest as the moon does not break horizon then. Many in my village have seen a black orb that comes from high above to the citadel during those nights. It blocks out the stars or you would not know it was there. I believe the visiting Ediu come in those orbs."

Warren glanced at Ettwanae and she understood immediately. She'd ask Volu to run some quick astronomical calculations. Within moments, Ettwanae spoke. "That's every 32 Neu days. Next moonset is in two nights."

"You are correct. The days following are always an especially good time to die." There was no mistaking the sarcasm. "The Ediu usually take those who pass during the darkest nights."

"Speaking of darkness," Warren said glancing toward the door.

"Yes, you should go."

Warren remembered his idea about the sunglasses. "Taala, may we come to visit you tomorrow? I have a gift I'd like to bring in appreciation for your help." Ettwanae gave him a curious glance.

"Of course!" came the enthusiastic reply. "But a gift is not necessary. Perhaps you would honor me then by staying for a meal. I don't have much to offer, but I am a good cook." It was obvious she had enjoyed the company, even if the topic had been less than pleasant.

"Perhaps," Warren replied vaguely, not wishing to commit. They rose and moved outside. The air had cooled considerably, but was still warm and the amber sky had deepened with the setting sun. It was definitely time to head back.

"Thank you, Taala, for everything. We will see you tomorrow."

"Yes, thank you. The information you gave us is invaluable," Ettwanae added.

Stepping away from the Booettu, they sprung into the evening sky and headed back to the neighboring valley where the others waited to hear their news.

###

Warren and Ettwanae practically inhaled the evening meal that Gatebi insisted wait until Warren and Ettwanae returned, enduring Flint's grumbling about starving. Between mouthfuls, they shared what they'd learned from the day's mission. Flint and Gatebi sat spellbound with the story of how the Dark Ones – Ediu – were using Booettus. Both were appropriately appalled.

Finally getting his fill of both food and debriefing, Warren ambled to his tiny quarters, having decided planning for the citadel raid could wait until the morning. Pleased with their fact-finding mission and content with a full stomach, he decided to comm Earth as it was passed time to check in – if he could convince Volu to let the signal get through.

"Volu, I'd like to comm Charles Xavier. I'm overdue to check in. Any objections?" He expected resistance.

"Very well," the ship said in a cool, detached manner. Warren was surprised and wanted to question the lack of objections, but set aside his curiosity. Hopefully, Charles would answer. If not, he'd leave a message about contacting his old friend again in Volu's morning hours. Backup plans proved unnecessary as Charles answered quickly.

"Charles! Glad you were by the comlink. Thought it was time to check in and see how…" Warren stopped. Something was very wrong – it was written on Charles' face. "What is it, Charles? What's wrong?"

"Warren, Emperor Ztar commed me days ago trying to reach you and several times since. Have you and he talked recently?" Warren shook his head. "You visited a planet called Tchutchka Centrus recently, correct?"

Warren nodded. "Charles, why the questions? What happened?"

The elder man's expression was grim and Warren's chest tightened. Tchutchka Centrus, Tider, the incident in the alley...

"Warren, I'm afraid I have bad news. The Tchut authorities have filed charges against you – for murder."

Warren blinked and swallowed. Had he heard right? The men in the alley? He hadn't touched them. How was he identified? Was he set up by their anonymous guardian? The questions flew through his brain. "What the fuck? What do they mean murder? I didn't murder anyone!"

"I know that, Ztar knows that, but Tchut Security does not. They found physical evidence that points directly to you. They are demanding to speak with you."

"Who are they saying I killed?"

"Three males in a city called Im."

Warren shook his head. This wasn't happening. "We had some trouble on the planet, but it wasn't me. Those men were armed – three guns pointed at us and we were weaponless. I didn't even get to the point of attacking before someone else took them out."

"So not only are you falsely accused, but if you had been responsible for their deaths, it was self defense."

"Exactly. They're looking for the wrong person. Do you know any of the details? What their evidence is? There were at least a couple people who saw me and Ettwanae in the alley. What are those witnesses saying?"

Charles shook his head. "The finer details I'm not privy to. Ztar shared generalities and wants to talk with you directly. During his latest comm, he hinted that the Tchut authorities think he and Gtar-Cro are hiding you."

"That gives all the wrong impressions. Damn it! Should have left my PI in standby instead of turning it off completely." Warren chided himself. If he'd done that, he would have seen with a glance that people were trying to reach him, but he'd done so to appease Volu who feared it could be somehow tracked. "Lesson learned."

"Warren, if you need anything, call me. Meanwhile, I will place my trust in Ztar to see you through this situation. He has vast resources at his disposal as you well know."

Warren gave Charles an affirmative nod. "We'll get this resolved."

"Before you go, Warren, how is the search progressing?"

Warren took the time to give his old mentor a summary. Then he ended the comm and considered his latest piece of bad luck. In hindsight, perhaps they should have reacted differently and gone to Im authorities following the incident. Old habits of fleeing the scene – fears of discovery and entanglements had come into play when he decided to run. That and fear others lurked that meant them harm. That would be his defense, he decided. Fear that he and Ettwanae were still in grave danger and must flee the planet.

But then, how to explain his lack of contact to Gtar-Cro's office? Failure to comm the one person ultimately responsible for his safety as a member of the Royal Court? He shook his head in frustration – no believable explanation from any angle. His knee-jerk reaction to leave and tell no one may have caused them to be hunted as murders.

"Worthington, sometimes you're a bonehead. If you had commed Ztar right after it happened…" He'd assumed there would be no evidence they were there, not thinking that technically advanced societies have highly sophisticated evidence-gathering methods. Then he wondered, what was it that they'd found? One way to find out. Gripping his PI, he initiated the call to Ztar, suddenly worried at the reception he might receive. As he waited for Ztar to answer, he prayed the ruler of the Turzent Empire still had enough clout under his new government to make the problem go away. At the same time, he wanted to clear his name. 'I'm innocent, damn it!'

###

Elder Phai was not happy. In fact, she was very unhappy. Den-neer was usually flawless in the execution of assignments. Not this time. Now they had a bit of a mess to clean up. They had learned Archangel was the high-level official wanted for questioning in the triple-murder on Tchutchka Centrus. The person they really wanted was Phai's until-now perfect weapon. Oh, her organization would make certain the problem was dealt with, but there was no telling how much collateral damage had been done already. What had Tchut authorities learned? What secrets would the empire's very effective intelligence agency gain in their fervor to protect the Emperor's Court member? How would this problem affect the events on Neu? The Turzent Empire's top military intelligence leader was heading there after Phai had orchestrated a witness outside Tider's shop that supposedly overheard Archangel mention traveling to Neu.

But what frustrated her more than anything else was that the situation had gotten so out of hand before she was informed. The fully story was about the break on the comnet and it was too late to stop it. That forced her to allow events to unfold to a point where Archangel would have to divert from more important matters to return to Tchutchka Centrus and face their authorities. To intervene now may have ripple effects throughout the Empire's tenuous new government. If the allegations against Archangel suddenly evaporated, there would be accusations of foul play, royal power abuse, corruption, privilege of position, and the list went on. The Empire needed to be stable and grow strong, not come under fire from scandal.

No, the situation needed to play out as the public and government expected. Archangel needed to be questioned by Tchut authorities. Then either by Archangel's own words or by actions of others, enough doubt had to be cast to abort the issuance of a Full Order. Phai fully intended to ensure those uncertainties were created.

Elder Sequi had been quick to point out his previous warnings about negative consequences of allowing the winged couple to remain free. "If we believe as you ask, that Archangel is indeed Eshaaru, then they are the only pair known to us. Why do we continue to risk losing them? They are much too valuable, Elder!" he snapped pointedly in the hasty council gathering he demanded.

"And what is your proposal? To detain them? What has that gained us before? The only other Eshaaru that has survived capture is T'Qilla, if you call stasis surviving. Even with our advanced technology, her Aru grows weaker each passing year – we will lose her eventually. And the one before her? Dead. And before that? Dead as well. And the only other breeding pair acquired in over five hundred standard years committed double ru'zha as we stood by helplessly. My fellow Elders, our record of keeping Eshaaru alive and well in captivity is one of failure. That is why I firmly belief we must not retrieve this pair – _because_ they are so valuable. We watch over, guide, and manipulate to our ends – yes, but from a distance. Why repeat the mistakes of the past? Time grows short. We cannot fail now. We cannot be the hands by which they are lost."

She'd made her point and the Council agreed to proceed with her plan – at least for now. Time would tell how successful she was in maneuvering through the latest unexpected complication. Once the immediate problem was under control, she would deal with the little matter of who was behind the Tchut incident.

###

"Archangel, praise the gods! I have been out of my mind with worry. Where are you? Are you safe? Have you talked with Charles Xavier? Do you know what has happened?"

"Ztar, slow down. Breathe." Despite the circumstances, Warren had to chuckle. "We have to find a better way to start our conversations. This is the second time in a row you've hit me with rapid-fire questions before even saying hello," Warren ribbed gently. It still warmed his heart every time Ztar freely displayed his love and concern. "I am well. Yes, I've talked with Charles about the situation and comming as requested. And no, I did not kill those men on Tchutchka Centrus."

Ztar's face relaxed a fraction. "I know you didn't. You are not capable unless your very life was at stake, and not like these men died. Where are you? Are you safe? Those men – were they Etagllot operatives trying to kidnap you?"

Questions were still coming, but at a less frantic pace. "Ztar, I don't know who they were or what they wanted. We need to start at the beginning and sort this out methodically."

Ztar seemed to take a deep breath and release it. He immediately appeared much calmer, more like the steady Emperor everyone else saw. "You are right. Tell me what happened and then I'll tell you what has transpired since."

Warren proceeded to give Ztar a full account of the alley confrontation, but shared few details of what transpired with Tider. "That's my side of the story. In hindsight, I should have reported the incident, but my instincts told me to get away while the getting was good. With the Etagllot – if that's who it was – there's no way to know who you can and can't trust."

Ztar looked conflicted. "I understand, but Tchut law enforcement is using that against us now, saying a law-abiding citizen would have gone for help as soon as they felt safe to do so, and especially a member of the Royal Court. At a minimum, you should have contacted Gtar-Cro or me. We could have alerted Tchut officials and prevented the situation from escalating."

"I know, I know…hindsight. Ettwanae can't get involved – it's too risky. That was my bottom line on running – protecting her. What kind of evidence did they find?"

"A feather and witnesses gave a general description fitting you."

Warren cringed. "But they saw no wings – I was wearing my harness and Ettwanae was using an image inducer."

"No matter. The DNA is clearly Human and since you are known to be white winged…"

'Damn!' Likely, his harness dislodged the plume. Warren offered a silent thank you to the heavens that the feather hadn't been Ettwanae's. "And I suppose the investigators got my genetic profile from my medical records."

"Not as of yet. We have stalled successfully on that request saying we needed to get your authorization for their release. However, with the lodging of formal charges, legally we must turn over the profile. Species genome from the feather along with the fact that you _have_ feathers and are the only known Human with said feathers freely roaming Turzent space pretty much narrowed down the suspect list to you. Matching their analysis against your individual profile will simply prove without doubt that _you_ were at the scene at not another white-feathered Human."

Warren rubbed his temple. He knew if not for his healing ability, he'd be getting a headache. "No denying I was there. Three armed men threatened us and were killed in our defense, but not by my hand. Unfortunately, I have no idea who our protector is or why he did what he did. Tell me what else you know. I'm assuming Gtar-Cro has been on the case since you first learned of this mess."

"He has. What we have discovered is of little help. The three males were former military with some special operations training, but nothing remarkable. Gtar-Cro has found nothing yet to link them to the Etagllot or any terrorist groups, but the men follow the Etagllot pattern in that they disappeared varying periods of time ago and not seen since. Why were they killed? Why not just knocked unconscious?"

"Can't answer that. Actually, I wasn't certain they were dead – didn't have time to confirm, although I was fairly certain they were."

Ztar shook his head. "If not for the feather, Tchut authorities would have nothing except three dead bodies – no other evidence was found. The description of you and a vague account of your companion alone wouldn't have led them to you."

"The witnesses couldn't ID me from any comnet images?"

"No, their recollections were too general, even under telepathic questioning."

Warren sat back against the wall at the head of his bed with an exasperated sigh. "Exactly the kind of luck that follows me around, Ztar. I seem to attract trouble."

A half amused, half disturbed expression crossed Ztar's face. "Archangel, that is a gross understatement."

"The fact all three were ex-military and MIA hasn't raised suspicions on the Tchut side? And it's a little hard to argue friendly intent when guns and an alley are involved, unless Tchut society welcomes visitors a whole lot differently than the rest of the Empire!" Warren attempted a bit of humor, but only got an odd look from Ztar.

"The men's background has caused questions, but their records are clean except for their unexplained disappearances. Unfortunately, they are the ones dead. Archangel, you will need to explain why you were in that alley and why you chose to flee without contacting anyone. That decision is at the root of all the speculation. The investigators already are asking questions about what brought you to Tchut; who was with you; was it you, your companion, or both the men were interested in, and the like. If we can find an Etagllot connection, it would provide a plausible cause for the confrontation. If we can prove you were endangered it wouldn't matter so much who killed the men to protect you."

"But they attacked us! Ettwanae was hit. We were unarmed. Heaven only knows what would have happened if our rescuer hadn't come along."

The Turzent nodded, but his face revealed the argument wasn't good enough. "I believe you, Archangel. The Tchuts know one shot was fired, but at a stun setting. It could have been fired in self-defense or accidently as the man died. The point is all they have are three bodies and a Human feather. They want to hear your side." Ztar eyes did not waiver from Warren. "Are you certain you have no idea who your protector was? Is there anyone beyond the Etagllot we should be looking for? Is it possible the target was Ettwanae and not you?"

'Other possible suspects? Oh, yeah, let's see – possibly Dark Ones, Shozen…the museum curator likely wasn't all that pleased with them and if he had connections... Can't rule out that Tider double-crossed us and had the trap lying in wait.' Their protector's words rang loudly in his head, "You are prey for more than one hunter." Just how many people were after them? The most immediate question, though, was how much to share with Ztar. Self-preservation told him to reveal everything, but how that would affect Ettwanae worried him. But if Ztar and Gtar-Cro could help… 'Shit! Why is everything always so damn complicated!' he fumed.

"Ztar, I haven't the foggiest idea who saved us. And beyond the Etagllot and anyone connected with them, I'm drawing a blank." God, he hated lying! For now, though, best to focus Ztar on the Etagllot angle. He didn't need military intelligence getting tangled up in Eshaaru affairs. The weakness link, though, was Tider. How much would Gtar-Cro's people learn from the broker? He'd have to trust Ztar to clean up any fallout from that.

The powerful psy was studying him closely. What was he seeing in Warren's face? After being together five imperial years, the man had likely gotten very good at reading subtle facial expressions. 'He's probably wishing his telepathy had unlimited range right about now,' Warren surmised.

"You're certain? No one else comes to mind? No one the Eshaaru has mentioned as enemies?"

Ztar was definitely sensing less than complete honesty. Warren decided to sidestep. "I'll talk with Ettwanae and let you know if we come up with any other names."

The Turzent held Warren's gaze a few seconds longer then leaned back away from the comlink and dropped the look. "I will inform Gtar-Cro to continue with the Etagllot possibility. Their organization has grown quiet over the past few months, though. Something has changed. We have either forced them deeper into hiding or they have moved their operations out of Turzent space."

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "About the shop owner – Tider. What did the Tchut investigators learn from him?"

The deep brown, whiteless eyes squinted at Warren. "About as much as I learned from you, which wasn't much. Apparently, he was not the most cooperative interviewee. Gtar-Cro's people had marginally better luck, but do not feel he had anything to do with the attack."

Warren nodded. "What's our next move? What do the Tchut authorities want?"

"Beyond your DNA profile, they want you to return to Tchutchka Centrus for questioning. Stjarmas'de says it would be wise to accommodate them to help mitigate the negative impressions from the lengthy delay. He will personally act as your counsel. May I tell him you will be departing for the planet immediately?"

'Oh, boy, that's not going to work so well.' Their pending mission loomed. "What if I talk to them via comm? Would that help? I could give my statement-" Warren went no further when Ztar shook his head firmly as the eyebrows knitted together.

"No, Archangel. Stjarmas'de offered that and they flatly refused. After the long delay, they want you on Tchut. When can I say you will arrive?"

The man was pressing. "Ztar, we may not be able to leave our current location immediately. It's not my call. I will have to ask." A little white lie that he hoped Ztar would accept. "But for now, can we tell them I'll be there in, say about 12 standard days, give or take? It'll take that long to reach Tchutchka Centrus from here." He padded by a couple days, giving them time to hopefully raid the citadel and be gone.

"Where are you?" the question was a demand. A distinct change of expression was washing over the Emperor's face and it was not positive.

"I can't say, sorry," he replied honestly. "Will they accept 12 days? Not much I can do to increase the speed of space travel."

"They will not be happy with a prolonged wait, but will need to accept it if that's indeed the best your ship can do." Ztar leaned forward once again, a deepening frown forming. "Archangel, I cannot over stress the importance of being able to reach you. This is a delicate situation and we need to appear to be fully cooperating with Tchut Security. As Royal Court under the new government, our actions are open to scrutiny. Any appearance that we are using our positions to elude responsibility for our actions will become at minimum comnet fodder and at worst declared an abuse of power. I do not want to shake the foundation of my new government with scandal."

Ztar's expression was one Warren could honestly say he hadn't seen directed at him before, at least not since the early days when Ztar was a far different man. The look said that Ztar would not tolerate anything that threatened his infant imperiocratic realm – not even actions by his former companion.

"I won't deactivate my PI again, Ztar, if that is best. I'll deal with any anger over that on this end." That raised Ztar's eyebrows and likely Volu's, if she'd had any. Warren was not naïve in believing Volu wasn't eavesdropping – not after what she viewed as his earlier breach of trust.

The Turzent Emperor gestured agreement. "Good. I need to know we can contact you when needed. We will tell the Tchuts to expect you in 12 days – _no more_. I ask that you stress to your new friends the importance of dealing with this matter quickly. If they care about you, they will understand and accommodate you, Archangel of the Royal Court of Ztar. Your actions reflect on all of us. Explain that to them if they don't comprehend the implications."

Invoking Warren's formal title drove home the seriousness of the situation. Ztar was right – his actions would reflect directly on the Emperor and the rest of his Court. Warren had responsibilities to uphold. The fact the title had been forced upon him two years ago was irrelevant – few knew that.

"I understand, Ztar, and…I'm sorry about all this. The Worthington curse is alive and well," he apologized. Sometimes he felt everything he touched that had any real value suffered. Would life ever be easy?

They ended the comm and Warren sat in his room contemplating what he should tell Ettwanae. He didn't want her to feel in any way responsible for the situation. Yet there was no evidence one way or the other who the men were after – him, her, or both. If her, she had a right to know. If him alone, then he could justify to himself not telling her why they needed to return to Tchutchka Centrus. Perhaps there was someone he could ask.

"Volu, I assume you heard all that," he said to the air.

"You assume correctly. It is troubling news."

He snorted. "An understatement. A royal mess – literally." He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck, realizing the neck and shoulders muscles had grown tight. "What do I tell Ettwanae? She'll feel responsible in some way, if I read her personality correctly."

"Astute. Yes, she will likely believe if she had not convinced you to come with us, this would not be transpiring. She will carry that guilt and it is the truth. If you were not on our journey, you would not be facing the situation. I, too, bear guilt. I apologize, Warren."

"I'm a big boy, Volu. I made my own decision knowing the mission was dangerous. You have no reason to feel guilt and that's exactly my point about what to tell Ettwanae. If I can slip away for the interrogation using some other excuse…" he let the idea trail out. The more he considered it, the less he liked the idea of deception, even if his reasons were honorable. Isn't that exactly why he'd gotten so angry at others in the past? Angry because they withheld information? A prime example – when Ztar kept from him that the Accord was to remain in effect for another year. Warren remembered well the anger and suspicions that lie of omission caused.

"That may not be wise," Volu opinioned with concern-laden tones.

Warren stood and stretched and ruffled his wings. Stress had caused him unconsciously to draw them tightly to his body and they, too, were tense. "You're right. I should tell her everything, but I'll emphasize that she's not to blame." He paced as best he could in his tiny quarters that consisted mostly of a bed. "This will get worked out. I've got the best of the best on my side – Stjarmas'de and Gtar-Cro." He wondered whom he was trying to reassure.

Murder – he'd never been directly charged with that before and the feeling turned his stomach. Just another problem facing him…them. Another obstacle. Another complication. Anger mixed with trepidation. He could feel his blood pressure rising.

"Warren," the soft voice filled the air. "All will be well. You have been falsely accused, and the truth will be revealed. Have faith."

Warren was touched by the ship's concern. "Thanks, Volu." He sat down again heavily on the edge of the bed as pacing in the cramped space wasn't worth the attempt. "I'm not going to say anything to anyone until after the citadel. We need to be focused on that 100 percent."

He was mildly surprised when Volu agreed. And so it would be.

Later, he and the others planned the citadel mission. Every aspect of the attempt was analyzed and every reasonable possibility they could conceive hashed through. Warren brought all his experience as an X-man to the table.

When Warren told Flint again he was not going, the teen was upset once more. So be it. The kid wasn't ready for such a dangerous operation. It was bad enough he and Ettwanae were going in with little chance of coming out unscathed and even less hope of success. Warren would not put a third life in jeopardy. This was not Flint's fight and he'd personally gain nothing from the extreme risk.

As a backup plan, Volu was instructed to attack the citadel should it become apparent they had been captured. And if all hope of them coming out alive was lost, he asked Volu to destroy the installation. Innocents would die, but at least the Dark Ones would be dead as well and the Booettu people free. That was the plan – whether or not Volu could actually destroy the fortress was unknown, but said she would try. While Warren wondered about the Eshaar'ne actually following through if Ettwanae was still inside, he had no control over that.

They had a general plan and contingencies. Now all they had to do was get inside.

###

_A/N: Sure would be nice to hear something from my readers, you know? Even if you've been shy to this point, don't be afraid to drop a note of encouragement. It would make me sing your praises!_

_Chapter 30 teasers: The second visit to Taala brings a surprise, stakeout of the citadel begins, and Warren is on the receiving end of Ztar's wrath. _


	31. Chapter 30

_A/N: Thank you for so quickly reading the latest chapters – warms my heart when you eagerly jump in after a posting! _

_This segment – Warren and Ettwanae revisit Taala, the stakeout of the citadel begins, and Warren learns firsthand how bad the "royal mess" has become._

**Chapter 30**

Knowing she slept days, Warren and Ettwanae hoped they waited long enough for Taala to have gotten some sleep before their second visit. The rap on her door was quickly answered making it obvious she was awake.

"I am honored you come again!" she greeting with unashamed happiness. "Enter – the meal only needs to be warmed."

"Did you rest, Taala? You didn't put that aside to prepare for our visit, did you?" Ettwanae eyed the woman with concern.

"I rested," the Booettu replied as she busied herself rekindling the cook fire. "But I must admit I was too excited to sleep much. I don't have many visitors."

Warren was worried about how hot it would get in the hut with a fire as the day had turned out to be quite warm, but he'd endure graciously. Two roughly carved platters held food – some of it looked to be meat and the rest perhaps plant in origin. Hopefully, nothing would be toxic to their systems. Accelerated healing would likely take care of any accidental poisoning, but they could be very uncomfortable in the meantime.

Once Taala had everything the way she wanted, Warren brought out his gift. "These are called sunglasses. You wear them like this." He put the pair on to demonstrate. "They shield your eyes from the sun, but you can still see. The fit will be tight for you, but hopefully good enough. It won't make it as dark as night, but… Well, here." He removed and held the glasses out. "Try them and see if they help."

Taala took the glasses and examined the alien object. Then mimicking him, she placed them on her head, a little awkwardly, but she got them positioned about right around her larger Booettu ears and head. She drew in a breath as she looked around. "It is dark in here!" Then excitedly, she moved to the door, fumbled a bit to get it open, and stepped outside. Warren and Ettwanae followed.

Looking around, the woman gasped as if seeing her surroundings for the first time. She held her hand up and examined at it through tinted, polarized vision. She lifted the glasses tentatively, as if expecting to see that the world had actually gone darker; then squinted sharply against the sunlight. Resettling the shades on her face, she spun quickly toward them. "It is a miracle! You have given me a miracle!" she proclaimed in a voice filled with awe. "I can go into the sun and not wish to tear my eyes from my head. This means…this frees me! I can freely walk in the sun _and_ in the dark." Then she moved further out to explore the world through custom Ray-Ban® silver greys.

Warren couldn't help the smile that stretched from ear to ear. 'Every once in a while, Worthington, you get it right.'

The excitement over several minutes later, they returned to the hut to enjoy the surprisingly delicious meal while learning more about the Booettu way of life. Eventually, talk turned to the Dark Ones.

"How do you plan to take back what the Ediu stole from you?" Taala inquired as she swallowed the last bite of zeno, a small game animal she'd killed that day.

"We hope to slip in with the next visitors to the citadel," Ettwanae offered. They all knew gaining entry into the citadel would be their biggest challenge and couldn't really be planned much beyond that basic concept. There simply wasn't any other method known to them.

"What are your plans once inside?"

Ettwanae pulled out the amulet that never left her. "This acts as a tracker for the nodes…the colored stones. Once inside, we'll follow it – likely that keeping room you told us about – using the layout of the citadel you kindly showed us."

"How many are going with you?"

"No others – just us," Warren said waving a hand between himself and Ettwanae. "I don't want to risk anyone else," he felt the sudden need to explain.

"Just _you_? Two against 32? Foolish!" The Booettu made a hand gesture Warren interpreted as less than complimentary. "They will quickly spot you wandering the halls and you do not know where to hide. What of my own people? They will be afraid and may give you away. And if you come upon closed doors? My mark may still open some. No, you need a guide. I will go with you."

Warren exchanged a shocked glance with Ettwanae. "Taala, no. It's too dangerous." He could see no reason this woman would go to that extreme to help them. Sunglasses weren't worth risking life or liberty.

A raised, fisted hand seemed to indicate defiance from the Booettu. "I can help. I know their lair and the people there. You do not."

"Why would you offer to go back to such a horrible place?" Ettwanae sounded equally mystified.

"Because perhaps we can help others escape. If more of my people tell our elders what the Ediu truly are, they may turn away from the false gods. I want to help my village."

Ettwanae shook her head. "But they cast you out! Turned their back on you."

"They have been misguided by powerful beings who speak lies and play tricks. I cannot fault them for their belief and for doubting my word. Yet even if I do not do this for those who turned face from me, I must do it for our children." Her tone was determined.

"And if the Ediu attack your people in retribution? How can you fight them? They could destroy all of you with a single strike." Warren hated pointing out the worst case scenario, but it must be done.

Anger flared in the green eyes. "Which is worse – life under the Ediu or death? Would you rather my people live ruled by those who wish only to use us for work and _food_?"

The woman was resolute. Likely, there was no dissuading her, but Warren had to try one more time. "Taala, it is noble and brave of you to risk yourself to help your people, but Ettwanae and I should go alone. If we can bring out your people, we will – we will try very hard. But if things go badly, you will become a slave once again or die – neither very pleasant."

Taala's demeanor became unyielding. "I will go. That is my decision. If you leave without me, I will follow on my own. But together, we are stronger. I know their ways; I know how slaves should act. I can guide you and speak for you if confronted. I carry the mark that opens doors," Taala argued. Then she rose and moved toward a place where clothes hung on a peg. "You will need to wear these." She held up roughly woven cloaks. "Can you hide your wings under?"

'Apparently the discussion is over,' Warren commented silently, impressed with Taala's bravery and determination.

"I think we can…" Ettwanae replied with a questioning look to Warren. He knew she was expecting him to make the decision.

The resolute Booettu picked up on the hesitancy, despite species differences. Standing to her full six and a half feet, she looked down at Warren and locked eyes. "I go, with or without you. Either accept my offer of assistance or offend me by slapping away my offered staff."

Warren didn't know the reference, but the meaning came through. If they turned down her help, it was an insult. "You are trained as a fighter?" he asked.

She nodded. "I have wielded weapons since before the age of reason."

He relented. Warren had no idea what the age of reason was, but he guessed it meant since her youth. Taala's knowledge of the citadel and its occupants and that she may be able to open doors could be crucial. "We accept your offer with gratitude, Taala. Thank you." Even while he voiced appreciation, Warren worried about another person to watch over. Time would tell if Taala was help or hindrance – whether she would cost them their freedom or lives.

She held his eyes for a several seconds as if deciding whether he'd follow through on acceptance, then nodded.

After further discussion, they agreed to meet at Taala's the next night – the first night of moonset. They would stake out the citadel from near the landing pad. Warren prayed their close presence would go unnoticed, though why that should be the case he couldn't fathom. With luck, the citadel would receive visitors and they could slip in. With even more luck, they'd make it out alive. With a miracle, they would come out nodes in hand.

###

"Aren't you afraid?"

Warren studied Ettwanae. Apprehension and worry were clear in her face and eyes. They had just re-entered Volu from visiting Taala when the question came from out of nowhere. "About the citadel?"

She nodded, her wings rustling gently as she resettled some feathers. "About the citadel and the Dark Ones…everything." Her eyes darted from his almost as if embarrassed.

"You think I'm not?" Warren moved slightly to the left to re-establish their gaze.

She sighed. "You seem so confident. Flint says you're used to this sort of thing being an X-man. My stomach rolls just thinking about what we might be facing. What if we're captured, or hurt – or killed!" Her voice was tight with rising apprehension. With a shake of her head, Ettwanae moved toward the tall cargo crate Warren used as an opponent in his staff fighting exercises and fingered some of the hit marks.

"I haven't been an active X-man for seven years, Ettwanae. To say I'm rusty and out of practice would be an understatement. Yes, I'm afraid."

She swung quickly in his direction, eyes wide. "You are? But you don't act like it."

"Neither do you."

She leaned against the crate. "A brave shell. Actually, I simply don't think about it…that way it isn't real. But now what we're going to do is upon us…it _is_ real." The Eshaaru wrapped her arms around herself protectively and looked down. "I'm scared. What if I do something wrong? Something that gets us killed?"

Aru had been amazingly quiet the past day and Warren risked stirring it to walk over and pull Ettwanae into a reassuring embrace. Her arms immediately slid around his waist. "I have the same worries. It would be foolish not to be scared."

"But I'm not experienced like you…I don't know how I'll react…what I'll do if we have to fight-"

Her voice hitched and he hugged her more tightly. Ettwanae needed him to be strong, to be the one with the skill to get them in and out alive. "Do you trust me?" A nod confirmed. "Then trust me, do as I say, and we'll make it. But also trust your instincts. Tell me if you feel something's not right or if you have a hunch about something." Warren rubbed the space between her wings. "We'll make it – we'll get the nodes."

"But there are so many of them!" A shudder ran through her lithe frame.

"And we are few and can more easily slip in and out."

Her face turned up to his. "You've done this before? Gone into the enemy's stronghold with so few against so many?"

"I have on more than one occasion." He had, but it'd been years and then with highly trained, experienced teammates at his side, but she didn't need to know that. "We _can_ do this, Ettwanae." He only wished he felt as confident as he sounded.

They stood silently for several moments before Ettwanae eased out of his arms.

"I trust Ozshi'wanae and you to bring us home safely. She'll guide and protect us and work through you to return the nodes to me."

Ettwanae gave him a slight smile as she brushed down a lock of his hair that had apparently gone astray. Her spiel sounded like a whole lot of self-reassurance.

Looking at her, his stomach did a flip-flop. This alien woman was working her way into his heart. Not just with her beauty or because Aru's incessant nagging, but with her gentle, trusting spirit. She wasn't callous or hardened like so many people he'd always been surrounded by. And in reality, she hadn't demanded or asked much of him at all. He was the driving force behind the inquisition of Tribo'lu, the visit to Tider, and now the citadel raid. It was he that was leading them along a dangerous and potentially deadly path. To find the nodes, true, but mostly for his purpose. It was the nannite cure he wanted. Bottom line, all Ettwanae had really asked of him was to love her.

But he didn't…not yet. Lust after and desire her? Yes, Aru saw to that. Warren wanted love to come, though. He wanted someone to share his life, have a family…someone to grow old with. He'd searched so long, had thought several times he'd found that person only for the relationship to end. Candy, Charlotte, Betsy, Paige…each woman he had thought was the one. They weren't for varied reasons.

Warren knew he had grown relationship gun-shy. None of his previous attempts at a forever relationship worked. But Ettwanae was different from those other women. Not of his world and not a mutant. He recalled how right it felt when they attempted to soulbind. He'd never experienced anything quite like that before, though Ztar was close. The rightness of making love with Ettwanae had resonated all the way to his soul. In the moments before pain consumed them, it had been euphoric. What would it be like if they could complete the act?

Strange he should feel that with an alien. Physically similarities aside, she was that – alien. Another species. As with Ztar. Ettwanae, yet another alien Warren felt a deep connection to. Odd, very odd.

He closed his eyes as Ettwanae leaned into him once again, her arms entwining him. He sighed softly with how good he felt in her embrace. "With your Ozshi'wanae on our side, we can't lose. We'll get your memory nodes back." She murmured something his didn't quite catch and then, not surprisingly, Aru began to wake. Cravings crawled in his gut. He eased away. "Why don't you find the others and tell them about our visit with Taala?"

She didn't object; only headed for the upper deck. He sighed deeply. Taking a cross-legged perch on a favorite cargo tub, Warren reviewed mission scenarios yet again as his fingers moved deftly and of their own accord to preen the flight feathers. The monotonous task soothed jagged nerves.

###

Sleep was nowhere to be found that night. Worry over the coming mission, the murder charges, Etagllot, Dark Ones, and enemies perhaps yet unknown fought for his attention and denied him blissful unconsciousness. With an audible growl, he rose and headed down the hall. Tiptoeing through Flint's chambers, he relieved himself and slipped back out. Luckily, the teen slept like the dead and it'd take a lot more than Warren's midnight pass-through to wake him.

The galley and its food beckoned. Grabbing a zante and some water, he settled himself into the gathering room. He could talk with Volu, but speaking seemed like too much effort, so he sat in silence with his thoughts. The citadel loomed large. Foreboding, unknown, dangerous. 'Death trap' was written all over it. If only there was another way. If only they had some help – like his friends back on Earth. Even Ztar and some of Gtar-Cro and Rehsaw's storm troopers would be good.

What awaited them within the black fortress? What powers did the Dark Ones possess? How could they possibly succeed? Three against dozens? Warren had faced bad odds before, but not like this. Not with so little intel and a neophyte team. This was beyond foolhardy. This was likely a suicide mission or the road to slavery.

'If you had any sense, Worthington, you'd call someone for help. It's insanity.' On the other hand, perhaps a small strike force was exactly what the situation called for. Quick, agile – slip in, slip out. He remembered Charles' lesson from long ago – "Never underestimate the power of one or two well-trained operatives. They can succeed where larger numbers only complicate." But Ettwanae was not trained, and Taala was of unknown ability. They'd be looking to him to lead them in and get them out. He'd be essentially babysitting two greenhorns.

Popping the last of the zante into his mouth, he pulled his knees up and formed a feathery cocoon. A childish habit, he often told himself, but he'd indulge. The position always soothed him; shielded and safe. Warm, feathery softness of the wing undersides was sensual against his skin, tickling ever so slightly here and there. Taking in the wings' scent deeply, he likened it to the comforting smell of a favorite, old blanket. If only he could wrap Ettwanae and Taala in protection during the impending stealth operation. He sighed heavily within the whiteness and pulled his wings in even more tightly, arms around shins, and forehead on knees.

'You need to bring every bit of experience and knowledge to this one, Worthington, or you don't stand a chance in hell of pulling it off,' he informed himself sternly. 'And you've never been more out of shape or rustier than you are right now. It's been how long since you've seen any serious action? Seven years?' The realization of how long it had truly been hit him full force. "Seven _years_!" he groaned in disbelief. Six Earth years under Ztar ('figuratively and literally,' he cringed) and one since he left Sat'rey and decided to officially retire his X-man uniform. "We're so screwed!"

He remained there for a long time, trying to keep his mind free of disturbing thoughts and dark speculations, hoping sleep would eventually welcome him. Sleep, however, was in no hurry.

###

Waiting sucked. That night, they would stake out the citadel, but first they had to get through the day. Lack of sleep from the night prior didn't numb his brain enough to keep runaway thoughts at bay. Fear of the unknown was like sandpaper on his nerves that grew coarser with each passing hour. The lack of Dark One reaction to their presence was baffling. What was the enemy thinking…planning? And what if they had come for Taala in the middle of the night knowing he and Ettwanae had visited her? Yet Volu was monitoring Taala constantly and had raised no alarms.

"If they don't know we are here, I'd be astonished," he shared with Volu as he sought a distraction. "Not like we haven't been flapping around under their noses the past couple days."

"They may be simply watching to see what our intent is."

"That seems logical. Unless, of course, they're one of several who hunt us. Then they may be tempted to make a move before we leave."

"We have only our speculations at this juncture."

Warren didn't bother responding as he walked the ship aimlessly. He was feeling claustrophobic and wanted to go for a flight despite the thick, warm, daytime air of Neu, but that would be asking for trouble. Instead, he aimlessly wandered the insides of Volu, poking and prodding at things he hadn't taken particular note of before. His ambling had taken him into what equated to the mechanical room of the living ship.

"What are these for?" he said, running his hand over a long, crinkly tube about an inch in diameter hanging at shoulder height.

"That feeds the water spigots."

Warren ducked beneath and around another tubular run, examining it as the hose seemed to contract in a wave. "And this one?"

"Waste disposal."

"Yours or ours?"

"At this moment, Flint's."

Warren chuckled. You couldn't even take a shit in the ship without her knowing. Moving deeper into the bowels of the space-faring being, he came upon what looked like a huge balloon that was very slowly inflating. "And this?"

"Atmosphere bladder. As I produce breathable air, it is stored here and slowly disbursed. The other bladder is for exhausted air, which I cleanse and add to the freshly generated atmosphere for recirculation."

"Sort of like lungs."

"Yes."

"What about gravity? How do you make that?"

"My internal gravity is the result of a constant phase field to a dimension where that force is far greater than this dimension. The field is centered near my base so you always feel as if that part of me is down."

"Amazing," Warren said with a shake of his head. "You are truly a marvel!"

"The marvel lies with the U'larr who created my species."

"Can you turn the gravity field on and off?"

"No, it is an anatomical function I cannot control."

Warren continued his explorations of Volu's innards, sliding around various tubes and odd-shaped protrusions. His sense of being inside a living creature was stronger here than anywhere else on the ship, almost like he was walking inside an abdomen. "How long does your species live?"

"A very long time to you, Warren." The voice sounded almost sad.

"How long roughly in imperial years?"

"An average lifespan would be approximately 3,200 years."

Warren was surprised. "That is a long time!" Then he had a thought that he wasn't so sure he wanted to know. "And Eshaaru…how long do they live?"

"An average of 730 imperial years."

"730 years," Warren repeated. Ettwanae could live 730 years – it hit him harder than he believed it would. She could outlive him by nine lifetimes. Then he reminded himself, his own lifespan was unknown – mutant healing factor had prevented Wolverine from aging, maybe it would do the same for him. Warren hadn't appeared to grow older since that ability kicked in, but then again, it wasn't like he'd been around for over a hundred years like Logan and could truly say he wasn't growing older. Throw in the unknown affect of the nannites that permeated his body, and heaven only knew how long his lifespan might be. Then again, he hoped to eliminate that variable.

"Does that bother you?" the ship finally asked tentatively, interrupting his thoughts.

It did, but what could be done about it? "I'm happy for her. She'll see much in her lifetime that others can only dream of witnessing."

"Yet it comes at a price. She will witness the death of many friends."

Warren's mind jumped back to the conversation he and Merryth, a royal palace employee on Sat'rey and Ettwanae's one-time friend, had on that very subject. Merryth's species was also long-lived. "She will, as will you."

Volu did not respond. Warren knew Eshaar'ne sometimes didn't survive the passing of their Other. Was a natural passing easier for an Eshaar'ne to accept than their joined Eshaaru being accidentally or intentionally killed, especially if their Other's spouse or descendants remained on board? Surviving the death to keep the remaining occupants alive could be strong motivation.

Warren wanted to ask his next question, but hesitated. Then he decided to simply pose it and see how the ship reacted. "Volu, do you remember _anything_ of your previous Other?"

"I do not. Those memories are lost to me." She answered more quickly than he anticipated. 'Was it truth or partial truth?' he wondered immediately, but would press no further.

Warren meandered out of the business end of the ship and headed up to the main living area. The balance of the day he spent reading a book Gatebi loaded to his PI – another volume in the _Shards_ series Warren had begun on Sat'rey. Diving back into that fictional universe was the perfect distraction from the troubles coming at him from all angles in the real one. As he began the third book, _Jagged Edges_, it hit him. The _Shards_ series was the tale of an orphan seeking his lost people – just like Ettwanae. A book he'd read prior to _Shards_ that Atichi lent him, _Times Ago_, paralleled his own life at the time – forced servitude and sacrifice to save others. _Bits and Pieces, _book two of the _Shards_ saga, focused on the snippets and snatches of information the protagonist was beginning to put together to form a picture of what happened to his race, while stumbling across what could be a sinister, galactic conspiracy. 'Sounds way too familiar…' The amazing coincidences nudging at his sense of wonder, and he delved into the book to see what the fictional universe held in store for the reluctant hero named Jxiar.

###

Ettwanae and Warren landed outside of Taala's hut as the sky was growing dark. Without moon glow, it would become nearly pitch black before long and they wanted to be in place before that happened. The Booettu was ready and waiting, cloaks in hand for her new friends should they be "lucky" enough to slip inside the citadel.

First though was the quick task of equipping Taala with a translator. Flint wasn't keen about giving up one of his, but there were no spares on Volu. Something to add to the supply list, Gatebi had determined. A single earpiece wasn't quite as effective as having one in both ears, but it'd do in a pinch. The Booettu was familiar with the technology as the Ediu tagged their slaves' ears with a similar device – something Taala had cut out after her escape.

Warren carried Taala and Ettwanae carried their pack. The Booettu's eyes were wide with wonder as they soared toward the small mountain plateau above the citadel. After they alighted amongst the boulders just beyond the flat landing area, Taala asked to touch his wings. Neu had flying creatures that called the mountains home, she explained, but they had wings of thin skin and rarely ventured to higher altitudes.

"What do you call these?" she asked carefully lifting a single quill.

"Feathers," Warren answered, a subtle shiver running through the wing at the touch. Taala noticed and released the feather quickly.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked with sudden concern.

"No, not at all. Just tickled a little."

"It would be wonderful to fly. Travel would be easy."

Ettwanae nodded. "It does have its advantages."

They proceeded to settle in. Gatebi had packed the essentials for the stakeout – water, snacks, ultra-thin thermal warming blankets, and the imperial equivalent of flashlights, which would also be used as weapons against the Dark Ones, if needed. With some pride, the Alcab had added a rather specialized device she'd acquired somewhere along the way in their supply acquisitions; so specialized, in fact, it was illegal on just about every planet within the Turzent Empire, Gatebi shared with atypical mischief. She'd shown both of them how to use the electronic lock pick. Whether it would work on Dark One technology they had no way to know except to try it. But to do that, one must find a lock to pick, and thus far, doors and locks remained frustratingly hidden from both scanners and eyes.

They wiled away the time in the darkness talking of the Booettu culture and beliefs, of space adventures and the different species Warren and Ettwanae had encountered, which Taala found fascinating. Despite the fact that she was of a less advanced species who, until the arrival of the Ediu/Dark Ones, had no knowledge of a greater universe beyond their world that teamed with sentient life, she was amazingly accepting of the concepts of aliens, a huge universe, and advanced technology and space travel. They believed in gods and spirits prior to the Ediu, but hadn't yet matured enough as a species to consider much beyond their own existence. Time within the citadel changed all that for Taala. She "grew up" quickly as she heard from the Dark Ones of life beyond Neu. And she learned life out there could be cruel and horribly unjust for those unable to defend themselves. To her credit, Taala hadn't painted all interstellar species with the same heartless souls as the Ediu had shown themselves to be.

"They told us of other peoples that had succumbed to them. They tried to tell us that those people were weak and deserving of their fate, but we heard differently. We heard between their words the courage with which those people fought and died. We may be a young people, but we are not without intelligence." The words were spoken with pride.

Warren watched her through the monotone darkness of the moonless night that without his mutation-enhanced vision would be only blackness. She _was_ intelligent, as was Aunu in the village. These people given the chance could grow to become as advanced as any other FTL species. In fact, it surprised him they weren't more developed than they were.

"Taala, since the Ediu arrived, has your culture stepped backward at all?"

At first, it seemed she wasn't certain what he was asking, but then her face revealed understanding. "We have not progressed. Ediu discourage learning and creating new ways. I believe they want to keep us as we are."

"Keep the lambs meek." Warren saw neither Taala nor Ettwanae got the reference. "The Ediu want to keep you as children who believe without question, obey without argument, and cause no trouble."

"That is it!" Taala agreed with bitterness.

As the hours dragged on, weariness gripped Warren and he struggled to remain awake. His mind and attention wandered to the sounds of Neu's nightlife…distant calls of animals, insects, or whatever made up the wild populace of the planet. Gentle murmurs, sharp cries, soothing rhythmic tones. They beckoned him, spoke to him on a deep level. He felt their pull…listened to the seductive call of the night. Suddenly, the world…stuttered. Warren jerked. 'Huh? That was weird.' He shook his head and refocused. 'Must have been drifting off,' he concluded.

He looked over at Ettwanae. She and Taala were talking softly about some female subject, comparing notes apparently. He studied Ettwanae's face in sleep-deprived detachment as she spoke of how Eshaaru females come of age. Her lips moved sensually, their fullness accentuated as she said certain words. The delicate hands gestured gracefully to emphasize a thought. His eyes traveled over the curves and contours of her body now colored in the gray tones of starlight. Longing began to stir, despite fatigue. Would they ever be truly together? Before the need became too uncomfortable, he focused on the girls-only conversation, only half comprehending as sleep kept trying to take him.

After a long night sitting on the hard rocks, dawn broke with nary a sign of life outside the citadel. Disheartened, Warren carried Taala back to her home, giving the woman her second taste of flying. He was exhausted, and all he could think about was flopping down on his soft mattress and letting his body have what it demanded. Once back at Volu, he let Ettwanae share their non-news and did just that, falling asleep instantly.

###

Ztar's face reflected several emotions at the news, all in the order exactly as Warren had predicted. 'You really do know the man well,' he congratulated himself. First surprise, then concern, then irritation as the man realized Warren was perfectly fine.

"What do you _mean_, you will be late?" the hot words flew across subspace.

"I apologize, but hopefully it won't be more than a couple days, a few tops. We've experienced a…delay."

"A delay? Do your new friends not understand the importance of this meeting?" Ztar's face turned hard and even on the small PI screen, Warren saw the flashes of anger in the deep brown eyes.

"They do, but unforeseen circumstances are interfering. It's been what, 16 days since the murders I did not commit? What harm can a couple more days-"

Ztar cut him off. "Do you watch the comnet news on your ship? Don't you know what's happening? The only suspect in this little incident was finally leaked yesterday," the sarcasm was biting, "despite our best efforts to suppress it."

Warren's heart lurched. He was all too familiar with the pitfalls of being a public figure – and members of the Royal Court were comnet fodder, one of the reasons why Warren had always shied away from watching too much of the interstellar media feeds. Gossip news grew quickly after the governmental transition began and Royal Court watchers became almost celebrities in themselves. All of which spurred Warren to spurn much of the less serious comnet reporting. In retrospect, he had been immensely grateful Ztar kept him out of the media eye almost to the point of reclusiveness while he lived on Sat'rey. Even with all the hubbub the Etagllot trial created, media attention quickly turned elsewhere afterward – pretty hard to dog someone living on a non-contact world. But now his time off the scent of newshounds had likely come to an abrupt end.

"You know me, Ztar, I've never watched much of the news…"

Ztar apparently slammed a fist on his desk – his image shook on Warren's PI as the loud bang came through sharply. "Perhaps you should start – and have your friends watch as well. The comnet is a storm of speculation, expert opinion, news commentary, exaggerations, outright _lies_, and Royal Court bashing. There are a _few_ voices of reason that continue to emphasize you have yet to be found guilty of the crime, but those seemed to be drowned out by the mongers of spectacle." Ztar's olive-brown face was actually red with anger. The eyes flashed as interference degraded his image on the PI screen.

Warren swallowed. Facing Ztar's wrath even across the vast distance of space was decidedly uncomfortable. "But I need-" was all Warren got out. Ztar hadn't finished yet.

"Jharda is doing as much as damage control as she is able, Stjarmas'de is holding back the attorneys for the deceased _and_ Tchut authorities, while I'm doing my best to instill that the Empire's absentee member of Court _does_ understand the seriousness of the situation and not snubbing his Human nose at our legal system."

Ztar looked like he might have a stroke. This was not good at all. "So you're trying to tell me that I need to get my ass to Im."

"_Yes!_" the man growled. "Without further delay. We need to clear up this matter quickly."

"What about my offer to be questioned via comm? Can't Stjarmas'de ask again…"

"They want you there, on Tchut, in front of their interrogators." Ztar's anger was something Warren wasn't use to be on the receiving end of. Yes, they butted heads a lot in the past, but that was personal stuff. This was different. This was business. Ztar was stressing big-time.

"I'll be there just as soon as I can. I promise you. It's just that there's business here that needs to be dealt first. Please be patient and trust me."

The next expression that came across the comlink was scathing. "There is business _here_ that needs to be dealt with, Archangel." The man was nearly yelling now. "You have responsibilities to our Court and to the Empire."

That irked Warren. His position on Court was _not_ of his choosing – it had been thrust upon him by his then despised enslaver. All Warren had to do was give Ztar "that sideways look" and the Turzent's expression instantly took a less demanding air.

"By the gods, Archangel! You've been Royal Court for two years and acceded to the position willingly long ago. Don't you see how urgent the matter is? I want you to be free these of false charges as soon as possible. Once you explain the circumstances, we'll be in a much better position to demand the accusations be withdrawn. But unless you cooperate, it only makes you look guilty."

Warren wanted to comply with Ztar's wishes, but he didn't want to leave Neu without another attempt at the citadel. Yet Warren was not a shirker of duty – he was responsible indirectly for the problems facing the rest of the Court. The citadel wasn't likely going anywhere…

"Ztar, we'll leave within two days if I can at all manage it." Then Warren felt it wise to use the lifeline Ztar and Company could provide. "If I'm unable to do so, it will be because the situation is preventing me. I will have someone comm you should that be the case." He'd leave it at that for now. 'No sense giving him even more to worry about.'

The change in expression was dramatic. Anything that threatened Warren always had that affect on the man. "Archangel, what are you trying to tell me? Are you in danger?"

"I'm fine, just making sure my favorite Turzent Emperor will still cover my back." Warren grinned the seductive smile he long ago reserved just for his former lover when feeling mischievous.

The man looked like he was going to press further, but then opted to not. "I will cover your back…and other parts if you wish." The returned smile spoke of all the old feelings and longings.

Warren was pleased with himself – Ztar was so-o-o easily diverted by anything that implied a romp in the hay. As he watched, Ztar's face took on its own playfulness.

"In case you believe me so simple, know that I'm on to your diversionary tactics, my favored Human, but I'm enjoying imaginations of the new destination."

'Well, maybe you're not quite so clever, Worthington!' he laughed at himself. "Tell Stjarmas'de I'll see him on Tchutchka Centrus."

Ending the comm, Warren decided to check out the news. "Volu, I'm linking up with the comnet, any objections?"

There was a pause. "You will not like what you see."

"I know, Ztar told- Wait a minute. Did you just tap in, or have you been watching the comnet all along? I thought you didn't like linking up with the imperial system."

"I do not often, but it would be irresponsible of me not to check for events that may impact us, Warren."

"And so you knew what was going on, but chose not to tell me?" His ire was rising.

"You would learn of it soon enough."

"Not a valid excuse, Volu. I'm not happy with you right now," he stated coldly.

"Imperial problems are of no concern to us. I will not let it interfere with our mission."

Warren wanted to yell at the ship, but held his tongue. The Eshaar'ne's first loyalty was to Ettwanae, that was abundantly clear…and as it should be. His royal problems were his and Volu would likely always put those in the 'not my concern' category unless they directed impacted Ettwanae. That line of thought raised a big question. Hopefully, he could convince the ship that allowing him to resolve the problem was good strategy.

"Volu, I'm not any happier with the situation than you, but as you admitted earlier, I wouldn't be in this predicament if I was not with you and Ettwanae. And, we don't know who the murdered men were after – it could have just as well been Ettwanae. This problem belongs to all of us. If I become a fugitive wanted for murder, it could cause problems wherever we go."

"They cannot take what they cannot find," Volu countered.

"Yes, but we have no idea where our journey will led us or the resources we'll need to tap into. Let's not burn our bridges if we can save them. Let me resolve this. Allow me to return to Tchutchka."

He didn't like the lengthy silence. In hindsight, he was foolish to have assumed Volu would return to the scene of the trouble.

Finally, she spoke. "I will take you back to Tchutchka Centrus once we are done here. There are risks, Warren, and I hope I can successfully avoid whatever may await us there."

At first, Warren wasn't completely certain what Volu was imagining would be waiting for them, but then it clicked. "You're worried the other Eshaar'ne."

"Yes."

"We'll stay only long enough for me to answer their questions."

"No longer."

"Agreed. Thank you, Volu. You've made it clear before that you will do whatever is necessary to protect Ettwanae. If I were you, I would do likewise. Know that I understand and appreciate that."

"Then you will understand, Warren, that if things do not go well for you on Tchutchka Centrus and they do not release you, I may decide it best for Ettwanae to leave without you."

Warren couldn't say he was surprised, but he was feeling let down. Yet he had Ztar as a safety net – who did Ettwanae and Volu have? They were on their own. "Understood. However, consider this. I hold a powerful position within the Turzent Empire – one that I've never fully exploited. If I chose to do so, I could be a potent ally – I can access resources that may make your search far easier. Before you leave me, take that into account."

The Eshaar'ne remained quiet, hopefully mulling over the pros and cons and finding more weight on the 'Don't Leave Warren Behind' side of the scale. He wouldn't press her for an answer that she may not be ready to give, so he returned to the subject that started the conversation.

"Volu, I want to link up with the comnet. Will you let the signal through?" Without a word from the Eshaar'ne, his PI jumped to life and one of the newsfeeds popped up on the small screen. Volu was throwing her weight around to make a point. He smiled.

Warren wasn't smiling a few minutes later when a report came up regarding the scandal.

"In the continuing triple murder investigation on Tchutchka Centrus, authorities are still waiting for the arrival of Archangel, the enigmatic member of the Royal Court of Ztar." A Basti female was speaking with a hologram of Warren floating beside her, likely an image from the trial on Sat'rey. 'Not the most flattering shot,' he snorted.

"An anonymous source within Tchut Planetary Security stated that the continued excuses for the Royal's failure to appear were of grave concern. Jharda Myrundra from the Office of Planetary Relations and a member of Court emphasized Archangel had traveled to a remote sector and that vast distance was the cause of the delay. However, she would not reveal more, declaring the location classified. Questions remain. What manner of classified business could a member of Court who holds no governmental position be involved in?"

Warren's image faded and a new face floated next to the newscaster. "Providing another viewpoint on the subject is former Master of Security of Mennisa, Ekat-Rov, currently Security Principal with Ziat Exploration and Mining, a multi-system conglomerate with numerous Imperial contracts."

Warren hadn't a clue what the man's credentials meant to someone who understood them, but anything to do with Mennisa piqued his interest. It had been a troublesome system ever since being added unwillingly to the Turzent Empire as part of the peace treaty with The Systems Commonwealth.

"Thank you for lending us your insight, Principal Ekat-Rov. As someone who served in sensitive security capacities both pre and post constitution, what is your take on Court Member Archangel's classified travels?"

"The timing of those travels is…convenient, is it not?" the disembodied head volleyed with a smirk that transcended cultural differences. "I find it equally puzzling that someone who was named to Royal Court on an apparent Imperial whim would be involved with any high-level security operations." Then the Turzent male gave a look to the camera that Warren read as condescending. "From everything we've gathered regarding the Human's royal position, it was as a simple companion. Apparently, quite a _skilled_ companion," the patronizing smile widened, "but royal companion nonetheless. However, the reasons for Archangel being exalted to Court are without precedence and the circumstances under which he appeared on the royal scene…from seemingly out of nowhere...are mysterious." Ekat-Rov gave his audience a provocative look that dropped Warren's stomach to his feet.

"And now this reportedly _former_ royal companion is on a classified junket conducting imperial business. What are we to read into that?" the reporter prompted.

"Exactly the point. What could possibly qualify a mere courtesan to conduct high-level business? Is there more to Archangel than has been revealed? Just who is this Human who comes from an official non-contact world? Why is Earth declared as such if one of their citizens sits on the Royal Court? Many unanswered questions."

A wave of a hand signaled the Basti's concurrence with her interviewee. "All of which are being deftly dodged by the Court, as was the case after the Etagllot trial on Sat'rey."

"Indeed! The Royal Court of Ztar is obviously hiding something. We must ask ourselves what Archangel, and more broadly, what Ztar and his Court are involved in. What don't they want us to know?"

Warren was burning. This was outrageous! No wonder Ztar was livid. What would they dredge up? Ztar must be very worried about the exact nature of how Warren came into his life. Would the Accord language fall into the hands of the media? If so, Ztar would have a publicity nightmare on his hands. As Emperor under the old system, Ztar was within his legal rights to take whomever he wished for a bedmate. What he did to ensure Warren's cooperation went way beyond that. If the news discovered that the founder of the current Empire and father of its new imperiocratic government had maneuvered a planetary _accord_ no less, the likes of which had never been done before, for the sole purpose of sexual satiety... The issue had sex scandal written all over it. And now the object of that lust was charged with triple murder and nowhere to be found.

"Fuck!" he fumed at the PI in his hand. "Double fuck!"

"I did warn you would not be happy with what you saw," the ship's almost smug attitude only added to Warren's distress.

The newscast was continuing. "Many questions and few answers. Thank you, Officer Ekat-Rov, for being with us today." Jharda's image replaced Ekat-Rov's next to the Basti. "Many insiders are concerned with the lack of disclosure by the Court, stating that void of information is generating the wild range of speculation we are hearing. Just hours ago, Court Voice Myrundra cautioned against such groundless conjecture."

Jharda's image then filled the screen. "The charges against Archangel are based on circumstantial evidence. No motive or witnesses to the actual incident have been forthcoming. While we are fully cooperating with Tchut security service, we remain troubled and perplexed by the seeming unsubstantiated accusation of _murder_. What _is_ fact is that the three men were armed and without the necessary permits to carry those weapons. Additionally, one of their weapons had been discharged and with no evidence of return fire. If you examine the data objectively, the story is far from what is being suggested by those outside of the investigation. A more accurate interpretation is that whomever the highly trained, battle-hardened men accosted in that dead-end alley was apparently unarmed, attacked, and likely in fear for their wellbeing. The evidence points to a case of self-defense by whoever was their target or defense by someone to protect the potential victim. While we sympathize with the families of the men, we suggest more scrutiny be directed at their motives and actions. The negative attention directed at Archangel is fueled more by sensationalism than good investigative reporting."

Warren was impressed. Myrundra played all the right notes. She'd walked the fine line between not offending the media or Tchut authorities, yet chastising everyone for allowing speculation run rampant while offering a defensible plea that used fact to turn the tables on his accusers. Jharda was highly skilled at her job and it showed.

The Basti reporter flashed upon the screen once again. "When asked about the specific evidence that lead investigators to Royal Court member Archangel, Myrundra again emphasized that the DNA read only as Human, not specifically Archangel's. When pressed further on whether any other feathered Humans were known to be space-travelers, Myrundra offered no explanation." A quick cut to Jharda filled the screen. "I'll leave the wild speculations to the others. We prefer to deal with fact." Jharda's image faded to the news reporter's. "And in response to the recurring question as to whether Archangel himself has confirmed or denied being at the crime scene, Court Voice Myrundra emphasized that Archangel hasn't yet had a chance to speak with law authorities and no further statements would be offered before Tchut Security questioned Archangel directly."

"Next up, news on the continuing natural disasters on Arythwae. And after that…" A scene of a large, public demonstration filled the screen. "What's going on with the Commonwealth? That realm continues to grapple with spreading dissention-" Warren ended the comnet link with that.

"It's bad, Volu. I need to get to Tchutchka and clear my name, if that's possible. In Imperial law, are you innocent until proven guilty or the other way around?"

"Usually, the former," Volu hedged.

"I don't like the sound of usually."

"I am not well versed in Turzent law, Warren. That is my interpretation from limited exposure. The Court's counsel is a better source for answers."

He nodded. It was going to be a long trip back to the planet where the trouble started. "Damn it all!" he grumbled as he rose. 'Jesus, why can't my life ever be easy? What'd I do that was so horrible?' Well, a couple things, he reminded himself. But hadn't he paid penance for those sins already? "Fuck it!" he sworn again just to release more of building frustration.

Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly and evenly; then repeated the exercise. His nerves somewhat less jagged, he determined a plan of action – or more accurately, non-action. "Volu, I stand by our earlier decision. I don't want the others to know about this, especially Ettwanae. She'll worry more and we must to focus on the citadel. We need to get in, get the nodes, and get off this planet."

"I concur."

Warren was pleased to hear that. The last thing he wanted was for the others to be worrying about the fiasco Tchutchka Centrus had turned into just before the citadel operation – let them be oblivious for a while. Then he told himself to file the problem under the can't-do-anything-about-it-right-now category and ran various raid scenarios through his mind for the hundredth time.

###

Ztar knew he'd promised not to go looking for him unless the Human failed to check in. He knew interfering was a breach of faith. Archangel had entrusted him with the knowledge he was with Esserru. But he sensed Archangel was in danger; felt it to his bones. He knew Archangel too well – the man was hiding something disturbing – something Archangel believed would worry him. The man was in trouble and maybe even struggling with opposing loyalties. If he wasn't, Ztar knew without doubt that Archangel would be on his way Tchutchka Centrus to clear his name.

But if Archangel was struggling with torn allegiances, Ztar was not. Archangel was Royal Court. Archangel was his former lover and still would be if Ztar had his deepest wish fulfilled. Archangel was his savior, literally pulling him back from the brink of losing his very soul to the darkness. Archangel was someone Ztar would give his life for, sell his own soul to save, risk his Empire to protect…and break promises if it meant shielding the man from whatever threatened.

And thus, Ztar decided. If there were indeed trouble, he would tell Gtar-Cro to take whatever action was necessary to protect Archangel on Neu. He'd deal with Archangel's wrath later. The man's safety was top priority. After that, his winged court member had better haul ass to Tchut and help deal with that royal mess!

###

_A/N: Next time – do they breach the citadel? _


	32. Chapter 31

_A/N: This is it – the first story arc climax begins. Hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter 31**

"Orders?" the Themran captain inquired of the general.

"Monitor."

"Yes, General," Captain Viis confirmed with a quick head bow as was customary for her species when acknowledging a command.

A few hours earlier, the Tre'endt had slipped into high orbit around the mountainous planet called Neu. The lone inhabited world in its solar system, Neu boasted a single sentient lifeform that lived in scattered settlements throughout a relatively small region of the planet. Gtar-Cro knew little about those inhabitants and cared even less about learning more. Archangel was his one and only concern. Initially, the top commander of Military Intelligence was to observe and report only. Those orders had changed abruptly on their way to the intercept. The Emperor entrusted Gtar-Cro to do whatever was necessary to safeguard the Human from whatever trouble visited upon him this time. While the Turzent ruler could provide no more than a gut feeling that Archangel was in danger, Gtar-Cro learned years ago to put much stock in his fellow Turzent's instincts.

Even before entering orbit, the Tre'endt's captain informed Gtar-Cro they had detected the Human on the planet's surface and in the company of a native Neu and Sat'reyan. The Sat'reyan made sense – that was one the species fitting the vague Tchut witness descriptions of Archangel's companion in the alley. Why Archangel and a Sat'reyan were in a restricted system on a mountain plateau with a Neu in the middle of the night was a mystery.

Of equal mystery was the impenetrable structure clinging to the side of the mountain just below Archangel's position. It did not belong there. Of highly advanced design, it thwarted all their attempts to scan. Who built it? Was it occupied? And why was Archangel staking out the structure? He had weapons, a scanner, and surprisingly, a highly illegal electronic security-busting device. In fact, according to sensor readings, the device rivaled MI's best equipment. The General grew more intrigued. Was the Human going to attempt to enter the impenetrable structure? Why?

Sensors also indicated the presence of a Hydeera signature sitting in a mountain valley not far from the mysterious structure. The ship they knew was there barely registered and sensors revealed little. And much to Gtar-Cro's puzzlement, it appeared to be ignoring them.

As the night dragged on, it was obvious Archangel was waiting for something, but what?

The first hints of dawn at the mountain fortress were not long off when one of the bridge crew raised the alert with a puzzled tone. "Captain, we have an inbound target."

"A ship?"

"Uncertain, Captain. Sensors indicate only an unidentifiable anomaly, though it is acting like a ship. Its trajectory is Neu."

"Put up sensor readings and a visual."

Immediately, a hologram filled the front of the bridge displaying both sensor readouts and an image of a black mass covered with spikes passing through the Neu system.

Viis glanced toward Gtar-Cro. "Ever encounter anything like this before?"

Gtar-Cro shook his head. "No, but I've read a couple reports over the years of similar sightings."

"Orders?"

"Continue to observe and work on getting better scan data. I want to know what and who that is."

Minutes passed without any further sensor success. The black mass slowed and dropped into geostationary orbit directly above the alien structure without any signs of concern over the Tre'endt's nearby presence. No response to their hails. No detected sensor sweeps by the mystery ship. Nothing. Who was this? As with the landed ship far below, the Tre'endt was being completely ignored. The General almost wanted to feel offended.

A short while later, they watched mesmerized as a portion of the black ship's hull seemed to melt away and a small, equally impenetrable craft emerged and plunged toward the planet and the fortress where Archangel waited.

"I believe the situation is about to get interesting, Captain Viis," Gtar-Cro suggested.

###

Night two of their stakeout was looking to be a repeat of the previous…very dark and very quiet. Ettwanae, Taala, and Warren sat snuggled in thermal wraps against the cool mountain air, talking of whatever topic came to mind, or just watching the stars and occasional meteor slice the black expanse. Much of the night had passed and Warren grew concerned it would be another uneventful vigil. He didn't even want to speculate on the consequences if he was further delayed from Tchut.

Turning his eyes upward, he focused instead at the wonder of millions of distant suns piercing the jet-black Neu sky. "This so beats stargazing from my New York home – even beats it from my aerie in the mountains. No light pollution to wash out the sky. You can see everything. Beautiful."

Ettwanae and Taala sat with faces upturned as well.

"It is, isn't it?" Ettwanae whispered. "I've seen many amazing things traveling with Volu – nebulas, dust clouds left after stars have exploded, and more – but little compares to looking up at the night sky and beholding its awe."

Taala turned her gaze to Warren and Ettwanae. "What is it like – to travel up there? To see the home of the gods?"

Ettwanae was about to answer when she got 'that look' and Warren knew instantly she was in telepathic contact with Volu. Her eyes searched the sky.

"Warren, something approaches."

Within a minute, a blacker than black shadow passed silently overhead, blocking out the stars.

Taala inhaled sharply. "They come," she announced in hushed tones.

The trio watched as the inky mass hovered briefly before silently sinking toward the landing pad. Smaller than he had anticipated, Warren surmised it to be a shuttle. From all around the large, black oblong body protruded spikes of varying length and width. 'Looks like an angry puffer fish,' Warren compared, shivers tracing down his spine. As the craft neared the ground, several of the lower spikes appeared to widen and flatten to form legs onto which the craft came to rest. Then the remaining barbs pulled into the body of the craft until only an oval mass rested on the small plateau.

Shaking off the mesmerizing sight, Warren gestured the go signal. Ettwanae snatched up their satchel and they moved in. As the trio crept quickly down to the landing site, the ground beneath the ship began descending into the mountain finally giving up its secret entrance. They quickened the pace.

"I've told Volu," Ettwanae informed Warren as they scurried over the last of the rocks. Would she be able to maintain a telepathic connection with the Eshaar'ne? He was not hopeful. Psychic dampeners worked on Eshaaru and Eshaar'ne just as effectively as other telepaths according to Volu.

"Hurry!" he urged quietly. Suddenly, either Taala or Ettwanae dislodged a rock and it tumbled a short but noisy distance. Everyone froze, hearts pounding, but Warren gestured they needed to keep moving. 'God, if we aren't detected it'll be a miracle!' he thought sourly.

Nearly running in half-couched positions, they reached the edge and leapt down onto the slowly sinking platform. He motioned the two women to move closer to the ship. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. 'This thing is just plain creepy.' He pulled out the phase weapon and patted the deep pocket of his cargo pants to make sure everything else was there.

Hunkering near the landing struts, all they could do was wait as the rocky pad sunk into the mountain. As soon as they cleared the vertical shaft and emerged into a large cavern, he looked for a place to hide, praying whatever sensors the ship's occupants used were not focused on detecting exterior stowaways. Several cargo tubs stacked to one side of the subterranean hangar would do. Still a good twenty feet above the hangar floor, he motioned for the women to follow to the edge of the landing pad. Scanning quickly for any movement in the low illumination, he took Taala in his arms and glided down on silent wings. He flapped minimally to land as stealthily as possible, but it made for a jarring impact with the floor. The sound of Ettwanae's beating wings echoed softly off the rocky bay walls, heightening his anxiety. She alighted with much more grace, but amid greater feathery noise. Inexperience showed.

Offloading his passenger, they darted to the containers and squatted to watch as the platform came to rest. Warren dug out the handheld scanner Gatebi sent along. He wasn't about to rely solely on Taala's memories to navigate the citadel – assuming the scanner functioned with the fortress. Various readings and a representation of the hangar popped up on the display and he sighed in tentative relief. 'So far, so good.' However, the scanner only indicated a solid mass where the ship sat and no details. 'Not really surprising.'

Taala had told them the Dark Ones didn't eat like most species – they subsisted solely on the lifeforce of others. Vampires came to his mind at the time. Yet the transport tubs they were using as cover carried the imperial symbols for foodstuffs. 'For the slaves, of course. They have to eat.'

Then it all came together. The regular visits were cargo runs! Likely, other purposes were served as well, but it made sense. At that moment, the shuttle began to morph. Spikes extended out from one location and moved tightly together to form a gangway leading from mid-point on the hull to the hangar's rock floor. A small section of hull became fluid and melted back to form an oval opening at the top of the gangway. Warren watched intensely for his first glimpse of the feared aliens.

Within seconds, three pure black forms immerged. The descriptions were accurate…the Dark Ones were as three-dimensional shadows. Straining enhanced night vision to the max, Warren made out a large head atop a long neck that came off the horizontal body at a near right angle. Six spindly, multi-jointed legs extended from the torso, three on each side, while two thin arms extended from each shoulder area, ending with long-fingered hands. In a way, their basic form resembled a cross between a centaur and a spider. Beyond that, the creatures were devoid of facial characteristics, skin texture, or other physical attributes. 'Creepy enough for a good case of the willies,' he concluded as the beings descended to the ground on spidery legs amid sounds that to Warren resembled scuttling cockroaches.

A flashing alert on the scanner caught his eye. "Anomaly detected." Positional indicators pointed directly to the Dark Ones. Warren agreed with that assessment.

Glancing ahead of where the Dark Ones were headed, he looked for a door and came up empty as did the scanner, but as the beings approached the hangar perimeter, a portion of wall dissolved to reveal an exit and another of their kind waiting. The scanner instantly displayed the door. The shadowy group began speaking amongst themselves, but too low even for his acute to discern any conversation, assuming his translator could interpret the language.

"Do you still have contact with Volu?" Warren whispered. Ettwanae shook her head once, her face revealing discomfort with the situation. "Figures they'd use psy-damps. We're on our own." He turned toward Taala, who looked like she regretted reentering the citadel. "You okay?" She didn't reply, but had her eyes glued to the creatures she knew as Ediu.

Warren touched her wrist gently. "Taala?" This time she met his gaze.

"I'll be brave, I oath to you."

He smiled reassuringly. "I had no doubts, friend Taala."

###

Den-neer held Bae to a safe distance from Neu to avoid the slim chance of detection by the other Eshaar'ne, yet close enough to quickly intervene if necessary. The military vessel in geostationary orbit above the citadel was of less concern, but still warranted caution. While he was confident in the blended cloaking technology, the subtle affects of their presence on surrounding space might be detectable if someone knew where to look and their sensors were sensitive enough.

The military cruiser's shields provided only partial protection against Eshaar'ne augmented scanners. Bae reported the cruiser was Turzent, which was visually obvious, and of design belonging to the Tre'endt, MI's flagship. That matched what Phai had shared – General Gtar-Cro himself was traveling to Neu. The Eshaar'ne also reported that Archangel, the female Eshaaru named Ettwanae, and surprisingly a native Neu were heading into the enemy lair.

Phai's orders were clear but open to subjective interpretation – do not interfere unless you are certain the Eshaaru are in extreme danger. Without the ability to scan within the fortress, Den-neer was uncertain how he was to ascertain such a predicament. Even his telepathic abilities were neutered by the alien shields. Bae, however, offered a possibility.

"I should be able to detect release of their lifeforce energy in spite of the shielding. That would signal they are dying."

"Or already dead," Den-neer quickly pointed out, not liking the "should" qualifier. Elder Phai had emphasized the critical nature of the event. The pair could not be lost, yet had to face the enemy. The Council of Elders was depending on the combined firepower of Gtar-Cro's ship, the other Eshaar'ne, and Bae to save the day if the worst became apparent. Of course, the other two participants were ignorant of that plan, but Den-neer doubted it would be overly difficult to strike a temporary alliance if they could be convinced it was the only way to save Archangel and Ettwanae.

No, what Den-neer worried about was whether or not even the combined firepower of the Turzent military cruiser and Bae was enough to break through the superior Eilu shields. The mountain around the facility could crumble and they may still not break through.

"Bae, if we need to jointly attack the citadel, I will contact Gtar-Cro and you will convince your offspring to join in the effort. It may be our only chance of success."

"She will not trust me." The thoughts and feelings behind the five simple words would fill volumes.

"You will explain it is her Other's only hope."

"Volu will believe us to be attempting to capture or kill them. Such is the price of betrayal, Den-neer." The condemnation was unequivocal.

###

The ominous entourage disappeared into the citadel and the exit threw up its mask. Warren led them around the edge of the bay, wondering briefly about technology that could completely fool their scanner. He reached out to touch the rock when the exit had been moments ago – solid.

"The amulet – is it sensing the nodes?"

Ettwanae pulled the talisman out from under her clothing. The two indentations belonging to the missing nodes glowed softly. Her eyes shot up to his, wide with hope. "It does!" Her voice shook just a bit. "And it feels strange, almost like it's vibrating."

"What you seek is here?" Taala wanted confirmation.

Ettwanae turned toward the Booettu. "Yes. The stones you saw are mine."

"Or at least your nodes are in the citadel – they may be kept elsewhere," Warren qualified. He'd not assume Ettwanae's were the ones Taala had seen.

"Then we must continue." Taala moved in front of Warren to find a spot on the rock wall that once pointed out did look like a stony version of a security palm pad. "I hope my mark still opens this door." She pressed her left hand against the lock.

"Move back," Warren urged as the wall rippled. It wouldn't do to be standing in the line of fire if anyone was waiting on the other side. When no weapons fire or aliens greeted them, Warren sneaked a peek inside, phase gun leading the way. Nothing. Ducking into the passageway, he signaled the others.

It was no brighter within the citadel, just as Taala had told them. Barely there illumination seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. While keen night vision allowed him to navigate freely in the darkness, it was a less contrasted version of sight and would require more concentration to ensure he didn't miss anything. 'Shadows can hide quite effectively in the dark. Extreme visual vigilance required.' Warren coached himself.

Warren turned to Ettwanae. "You can see okay, right?" Warren wanted verification. She nodded. Yet another characteristic they shared, but now was not the time for wandering thoughts of how much he disquietingly had in common with the Eshaaru. He and Ettwanae donned the cloaks Taala supplied, drawing wings tight to their bodies. The cloaks wouldn't provide much of a disguise, but at least the bright white feathers were covered.

Another check of the scanner revealed not nearly as much as he'd hoped as it boldly declared its range of clear scan was only a couple dozen imperial ontas, roughly 75 feet, before the device could penetrate no further. Readings indicated the mountain to be typical rock, leading Warren to conclude something else was limiting the scanner's range. Its bio life indicator did note two Booettus up ahead. "Interference," he announced succinctly. "The scanner won't be of much use, but we'll keep it on anyway." He looked to Taala. "You should lead, I'll follow you." He handed the scanner to Ettwanae who would bring up the rear. "Stay close and watch that no one sneaks up behind us," he instructed while resettling the phase gun in his hand. 'If the scanner can't detect these aliens, wonder how effective the phase gun will be?' the errant worry emerged, but he shoved it aside. 'No way to know.'

As Taala crept forward, Warren noticed how cold and heavy the air was. And the smell…well, the smell was decidedly not fresh. The best he could come up with was rancid. He crinkled his nose at Ettwanae and she understood immediately, giving a quick nod.

Warren let a hand run along the smooth rock, feeling its undulating, folded surface. The tunnel walls were reminiscent of the pahoehoe lava flows he'd seen in Hawaii. Did the Dark Ones literally melt their way through the mountain? Taala slowed their pace as she approached the end of the tunnel and whispered back, "We need to cross the room and go to the right. That tunnel leads to the sanctum. The door to the keeping room is there."

Ettwanae moved up close to his side. "What does the scanner say now?" he asked.

"Two Booettus – no one else."

Taala eased her tall frame around the corner to peer further into the room, then pulled back. "We cannot get by without being seen. I will speak with them – I recognize the woman."

Warren grabbed Taala's arm. "They may raise the alarm. I should stun them with our weapon." Concern instantly swept over her face and he realized Taala likely didn't understand what stun meant. "They won't be harmed – just fall asleep for awhile."

Taala considered for a moment. "No, they may help us."

"Or they could be so afraid as to tip off the Ediu."

"Warren, the weapons fire could set off internal sensors," Ettwanae chimed in softly.

'Shit, she's right. God, Worthington, you're so out of practice!' he scolded himself harshly. "Actually, I'm surprised our presence hasn't set off alarms already," he added with worry. Perhaps it had. "All right, Taala, we do it your way, but if you feel the least bit like they will betray us, they go unconscious."

Taala swirled away with perhaps irritation and moved quietly toward the Booettus on the floor cleaning with careful attention. 'Why do the Ediu need cleaning slaves in the first place?' he pondered. 'Do shadows leave dirt?' Those questions fell away to more pressing concerns, like the very real possibility he was going to end up dying or enslaved far from home and no one had the slightest idea where he was. Leaning against the tunnel wall, he focused his entire being on picking up the hushed conversation between the Booettus.

"We believed you went to the true gods!" a female voice revealed amazement. "They told us you died for your disobedience!"

"Are you in their service once again?" a deeper voice asked in tones that spoke of defeat.

"No. I escaped. They only told you they killed me so you would not realize it is possible. I come with new friends who will help all of us escape these black demons. But we need your help. "

"And who are these new friends?" Suspicion clearly resounded in the masculine tenor.

"Attarru."

The silence extended for several seconds. "_Attarru_? Are you certain?" The woman sounded extremely doubtful.

"I am not, but they come as the legend speaks. The signs are right." Taala argued.

"A trick!" the man accused harshly. "The Ediu will slay anyone who falls for this deception. It is a trap!" he spat, his voice too loud and the women quickly shushed him.

"I'd rather die than go on as we are, Neto. This return to life is not living," the female snapped.

"Even if not Attarru, they are special. You'll see," Taala pressed. "They aren't of this world and are powerful like the Ediu, but small in number – only two. I am helping take back what the Ediu stole from them and in return, they will free us."

Warren heard what sounded like a huff. "The Ediu were special as well when they first appeared to our mothers' mothers. Promises of protection and prosperity. But we know differently now. Though our eyes are twisted to their purposes, we see more clearly than ever. You are being deceived – the Ediu are clever and powerful. They search for those who seek to defy them. The punishment will be true death…or worse."

"What do you mean, those who seek to defy?" Taala's question reflected surprise.

"I speak no more! They are watching, I feel it." Warren heard the sound of someone moving in the room; perhaps Neto was leaving. "Remember our people, Taala. If this plan of yours fails, our entire village could pay the price!" Footsteps clearly left the room. Warren's chest tightened and he glanced to Ettwanae. Her face also showed distress.

"Will he betray me?" Taala sounded fearful.

"I don't think so. He hasn't yet betrayed those he spoke of. There's a small group – we hope to escape and warn our people what the Ediu are. Perhaps if their true nature is revealed and our people cease worshipping them, they will go elsewhere. We are close – have planned carefully," the woman revealed so quietly it was at the limits of Warren's hearing.

"Then you'll help us?" Hopefulness filled Taala's words.

"I must speak with the others. You come to us unexpectedly, Taala. We risk discovery if we assist you – our plans will be like jenti wind. I can make no vows to you. The decision is not mine."

"We are going to the keeping room."

"Then my blessings go with you for you will need them. If what your friends seek is within that chamber, they need to be as powerful as you say. I will speak with Tiar immediately." Warren could make out the rustling of clothing. "You are certain your friends will help? That we can live once again outside?"

"I stand before as proof we can. They will help us, they oathed to me."

"Then I will move ahead of you and warn our people to be blind to your presence. That is all I can promise for now. Give me a short time."

"Thank you, Meipa."

Taala reappeared at the tunnel entry. "They will not betray us. We must wait briefly."

"Thanks, Taala. I hope Tiar and the others will at least not interfere."

Taala was taken aback. "You heard?"

Warren nodded. "My apologies, but I needed to listen." She frowned, but raised no objections. He hoped Taala's trust had not been weakened.

While they waited, Ettwanae tried different scanner settings while Warren double-checked that the lock pick still had power and the lumas, the equivalent of a flashlight, worked. Warren caught a tremor run through Ettwanae as her wing tips quivered. She wasn't use to this sort of situation. Doubts gripped him again as to the wisdom of their actions. Suddenly, the Booettu was at his side.

"It's time," Taala announced succinctly and started across the chamber toward the rightward tunnel. Entering the passageway, the hairs on the back of Warren's neck rose for a second time as the feeling that Neto was right washed over him – someone was watching. He tightened his fingers around the phase gun grip, hoping if they needed to use their weapons, they wouldn't disappoint.

Tunnel two was punctuated with three off-shooting corridors. As they moved quietly but swiftly through the murky fortress, Warren couldn't shake the thought things were too quiet. If thirty-some Dark Ones lived here, where were they? The next moment, he knew he'd jinxed it.

Taala halted before the second intersection and cautiously peered up and down the adjoining tunnels as she had at the first junction, then jerked back, alarm filling her face. "Ediu." The word was only just audible.

Warren leaned against Ettwanae as she verified the scanner detected two anomalies. Hearts pounding, Taala motioned for them to fall back. Ducking into the first side tunnel, they plastered themselves tight to the wall. The same scuttling sound they heard in the hangar was mingled with hisses and clicks as the aliens drew nearer. They slid further back along the rock, hoping the Dark Ones would not glance their way.

Warren stared down the tunnel, phase weapon aimed at the estimated height of the alien's heads. Rustling and hissing grew louder and cold sweat coated his tense body. He swallowed hard just as two Dark Ones came into view, skinny arms moving in sync with apparent conversation. One second, two seconds, three seconds – no sign of awareness of their presence. Then they disappeared from sight.

Warren lowered his weapon and rested the back of his head against the cold rock in relief. A strong shiver traveled down his body as sweat chilled him in the now icy-feeling air. Just to add to his discomfort, he was already feeling closed in. Tight spaces disagreed with him and tight spaces under tons of rock even more so. They waited another minute to ensure the aliens were out of the tunnel; then Taala once again took the lead. Many paces ahead, Warren could see the tunnel open to a large room, which the Booettu said was the sanctum.

As they neared the end of the tunnel, two distant screams cut through the air and to the bone, nearly causing cardiac arrest in the trio. Their guide stopped dead in her tracks and moaned. Then more screams. Taala braced her hand against the wall. Ettwanae was immediately at her side. "Is that what you told us about?" she asked softly.

"Yes, the screams when the Ediu nourish themselves," her voice was choked. "Oh, my people!"

The anguish in Taala's voice tore at Warren's heart. He also realized they may have just gotten the answer as to lack of activity. The Dark Ones were busy elsewhere – mealtime for the visitors and residents. The mere thought made him nauseous. If there was a way to help the Booettus, they had to do so. His conscious would allow no other decision. Distant screams continued to slice the darkness, but they had to focus on their mission.

"Taala, we need to keep moving," he encouraged. With a shaky sigh, Taala approached the entrance to the wedge-shaped sanctum. Pulling the hood tight around his head and body, Warren dared a peek. Several Booettus were busy cleaning objects and surfaces. Two Dark Ones stood in the rear watching the slaves work. Four tunnels opened up to the sanctum along the back wall of the room. Opposite those entrances at the narrow point of the chamber sat what looked like an altar. Ornately carved of a pure black material, it stood at least 15 feet tall. Placed upon it were objects of various shapes and sizes, which two slaves were polishing with great care. What the items were or their purpose was irrelevant, but if he had to guess, they were religious accouterments. Warren briefly wondered what their colors would be in the light, for in the dark, monochromatic world of the citadel, there were only grays, darker grays, black, and deepest black.

Warren refocused on sizing up their surroundings. Opposite their tunnel was the first obvious door they'd seen. It was as richly carved as the altar and appeared to be of the same coal-black material. According to Taala's sketch in the dirt, it guarded the keeping room – the place Taala said only high-ranking Ediu were allowed. Warren glanced at the scanner in Ettwanae's hand, which told him nothing of what lie beyond the ornate portal, and then to her eyes. "Does the amulet give any indication if we're close?"

"The thrumming has grown stronger," she whispered back.

"I'll be the optimist and assume the nodes are in the keeping room. First, we need to get by the guards," he said with a nod in their direction. "Then we'll see if Gatebi's gadget works on the door. I'm open to ideas," he prompted.

Just then, sounds behind them caught his attention and breath. Taala immediately moved toward three Booettus entering the opposite end of the tunnel, their arms laden with small cargo tubs. 'Unloading of the ship is underway,' Warren concluded.

In urgent but subdued voices, Taala pleaded with them for their "blindness" and encouraged them to talk with Meipa to confirm her words. He heard one of the trio issue warning that her actions could cause them all to suffer greatly, their fear radiating with almost palpable intensity. As Taala worked to convince her fellows to remain neutral, Warren watched as another Dark One entered the sanctum and moved silently toward the two posted as guards. He couldn't understand any words, but the third was quite demonstrative, almost urgent in movement, using all four arms to get across whatever point it was making. Warren held his breath and his heart rate increased – had they been detected?

A few moments later to his relief, the newcomer pointed down another tunnel with two appendages. With one of the sanctum sentries in tow, it scurried quickly in the direction of concern. Another round of muffled screams echoed through the large assembly room, washing up the tunnel where they hid. Ettwanae covered her ears and her face filled with empathic pain as she caught Warren's eyes.

"I know," he said. "We'll do what we can either from in here or once we get back to Volu."

Taala reappeared next to them. "They are afraid, but will remain quiet," she explained as the trio passed by, giving he and Ettwanae fearful looks. Warren watched them closely for any sign of betrayal as they moved across the chamber and down one of the tunnels.

"A guard has left, leaving only one. We just need to deal with him now."

Suddenly, a commotion of angry voices echoed from the hall where the two Dark Ones had disappeared. At first, the guard merely glanced in that direction, but remained at his post. As the noises became louder, he/she shifted around on its six legs and peered more intently down the noisy tunnel. The voices became clearer as a female Booettu shouted about more getting the supplies from the ship and another voice declared he had other duties to attend to.

Taala smiled. "That is Meipa."

Warren instantly knew – she was creating a distraction, likely at great personal risk to herself and whomever she was quarrelling with. The disagreement escalated, growing louder as the verbal combatants argued their stands. Finally, the guard could resist no longer, and it headed up the hall to deal with the disturbance.

"We go now or never!" Warren declared and two heads indicated agreement. He led them at a trot across the chamber to the carved door. Stuffing his weapon in a pocket and pulling out the lock pick, he noticed his hands were actually shaking. 'Jesus, flyboy, you really have been away from action too long,' he said in realization of how much the adrenaline rush was affecting him. 'In the old days, this would be practically child's play.'

Ettwanae traded the scanner for her phase gun as Warren glanced around the room. Many Booettu eyes watched them while trying not to look like they were. "Keep on eye on them. I don't want anyone running or otherwise sounding the alert." He activated the device, holding it near the door. The tiny screen on the gadget indicated it was working, but as the seconds ticked by in excruciating slowness, the door remained firmly closed.

Suddenly, one of the Booettu nearest where the Dark Ones had disappeared jumped up as a scream from the tunnel cut the air. With quick glances at the others, the Booettu darted down a different tunnel.

"Come _on_! Work!" he begged the illegal gadget in which they were placing so much hope. He glanced in the direction where the Booettu had sprinted praying he or she was not doing what he feared – betraying them.

Still nothing from the device as it calmly performed its electronic routines. He shook it out of frustration as he shivered from a trickle of sweat that made its way down his spine. Ettwanae gave him a worried look.

"No!" came the shout from the tunnel the guards had gone. The rest of the slaves stopped what they were doing and watched the tunnel with great apprehension. "Stay _away_ from her!" a second voice yelled in anger in the passageway. An agonizing scream sliced through the chamber.

Taala locked eyes with Warren's, panic building in her face. "They come!" In desperation, Taala laid her hand on an indentation in the door that Warren guessed was a control pad. Nothing happened. No surprise. "It was worth trying," she explained in a voice shaking with fear.

"Damn!" he muttered, slamming his fist against the door in exasperation.

"Please, goddess, let us in!" Ettwanae pleaded to her deity. "Hurry!"

Booettus began scattering into various corridors as sounds of a struggle that was clearly growing closer emerged from the tunnel. 'Smart to run,' Warren observed with no bitterness. Even if they did manage to get inside, they would not be out of danger, but perhaps hidden for a while. If only the goddamn door would open!

'Steady, Worthington…steady.' His heart was racing and hands slippery with moisture. They had seconds before the commotion spilled into the sanctum. 'God, if you ever decided to answer my prayers, now would be a good time!'

Another, closer scream filled the room now devoid of anyone save them. Ettwanae laid a trembling hand on his wrist. Any second, the aliens would be upon them. They were out of time.

###

If Volu could have paced, she would have. The citadel mission was dangerous beyond rational, no one would argue. Yet it was necessary. Without the nodes, little could be achieved toward the goal – reunification with their people. She refused to believe it was not possible. Ettwanae far more than she needed to be with her kind. Eshaar'ne survived isolation better than Eshaaru – it was as Volu's kind were designed. But Eshaaru needed other Eshaaru. Perhaps Warren was Eshaaru, perhaps only a cruel mimicry. In time, Volu would determine the truth, but for now, Ettwanae was happy with him to the extent possible, despite the barrier between them. It would do for the time being. Long term?

She refocused awareness on the citadel, hoping not to find what she was seeking. Nothing. But doubt nagged. What if the Dark Ones' shields blocked even that? No, it was improbable. If lifeforce was released, she would sense it – shields could not contain it.

And so she waited and watched and worried.

###

Suddenly, the door slid silently aside, startling everyone. Warren quickly pulled Taala and Ettwanae through the entry and pressed them against the inside wall.

"Close – please, close!" he commanded/begged the door. To his amazed relief, it did, just as voices and sounds of scuffling told him the ruckus burst into the sanctum. He let out a breath and realized his knees were like Jell-O.

"Thank you, goddess!" Ettwanae praised softly with heartfelt gratitude.

"Amen!" Warren echoed. "But we're not out of danger by a long shot."

Pulling out his gun, Warren quickly assessed their surroundings. It would have been pitch black if not for the three glowing shafts of light and a spectacular hologram of what was clearly the Milky Way Galaxy. Beyond that, the room appeared empty as far as Warren could see into the deep darkness that shrouded the perimeter. Once he was fairly certain they were alone, Warren took in the sight before them more closely. The disc-shaped galaxy floated mostly horizontally halfway between the floor and ceiling and spanned most of the room. A narrow, ruby red light shaft extended from floor to ceiling, piercing the galaxy. Two other beams of magenta and deep amethyst shone off to the side of the three-dimensional display.

Taala stood transfixed near the doorway, her eyes wide with wonder.

"This is a drawing of our galaxy, Taala," Warren explained. "These white dots are all suns – just like the sun of your planet." He shed the cumbersome cloak and Ettwanae followed suit.

"Suns? But our sun is large…there are so many here. How?" The woman grappled to understand and put into context what she was seeing.

"Your sun is just one of millions of suns in what is called a galaxy. It is a very big place, Taala." He had no idea how much she would really comprehend. 'Hell, even impossible for me to grasp the scale of a galaxy,' he realized. Scanning the hologram, he found the area he knew represented Earth's interstellar neighborhood. Pointing to that area, he continued. "This general region is where your sun is and where Ettwanae and I live as well."

Warren turned to Ettwanae as she approached the red beam, her eyes fixed on the five memory nodes suspended within, one above the next, like strung crystals. "This shaft of light passes through the Commonwealth." She leaned forward, looking at the hologram more closely. "It appears to go straight through a star system on the outer fringes of their territory, I think." She moved in closer and examined the area of intersection. "In fact, it appears there is a single star highlighted within the shaft."

Warren stepped closer. "The one in blue?" he asked to be certain.

"Yes. See how all the other stars within the shaft are white. That's the only blue one." Ettwanae scanned the rest of the galaxy. "It's the only colored star I can find anywhere. Wonder that that means? Interesting."

It was interesting, Warren agreed, but they needed to stay focused. "Which two nodes are yours?" he asked in a whisper.

She tucked her weapon into a pocket and drew the amulet from its hiding place. It had already begun glowing more brightly in recognition of its missing pieces. Moving the amulet slowly past the highest node to the lowest, Warren assumed she was sensing some subtle differences in the amulet's vibrations. At two of the gem-like nodes, her hand hesitated.

"The top two." She settled the amulet against her chest and looked at him with worry. "Are we ready? Should I take them now?"

Warren nodded. Why wait? They had risked everything for this moment, and once the nodes were in her grasp, the easiest part of their mission would be accomplished. Escaping with the nodes he believed was going to be far more difficult. Something nudged at the edge of his awareness, whispers that all wasn't as it seemed. 'This has been wa-a-ay too easy,' an internal voice warned as a cold shiver ran down his spine. Warren strained to penetrate the dark recesses of the chamber, gripping the phase gun as small reassurance. Seeing only blackness, he refocused on Ettwanae.

Her shaking hand reached for the nodes, hesitating before breaking the shaft of light. Warren held his breath and readied himself. Would she be hurt by the suspension field? Trigger alarms? Weapons? Her fingers were nearly within the red light and he heard a slight rustling behind them. Ettwanae drew a sharp breath and retracted her hand. Whirling around, he cursed the darkness. Scanning the room, he raised his phase gun as his heart rate escalated. 'Was that movement?'

The blackness began to swim at edges of the chamber, sliding around them, nearing with every quickening heartbeat. Foreboding filled the room and his soul. Even with enhanced night vision and the soft glow of the suspension fields, Warren could barely make out the inky figures. If his eyes weren't playing tricks, they were surrounded. Ettwanae and Taala drew close; the Neu whispering what might have been a prayer.

Then one black shadow emerged to stand in the soft glow of the light shafts. Warren pointed the gun in its direction. 'Fuck!'

###

"What's happenin', Vo? They've been in there too fuckin' long!"

Gatebi sat tensely in her corner of the bay where she and Flint had decided to wait once Volu announced the trio entered the citadel. "It hasn't been that long, Flint. It will take time to find the nodes and escape," the Alcab answered in Volu's stead.

Flint fidgeted on the crate he chose as a seat. "Seems like _hours_ since they went in. Vo?"

"I detect nothing from the citadel – no change from two minutes ago when you asked. And the three and one half minutes prior to that."

"I dunno...," Flint worried, shaking his head as he jumped off the crate. "I've got a bad feeling." Flint began pacing and becoming more agitated with each step. "How long we gonna wait? What if they're being killed right now?"

"There would be signs I believe I can detect and have not." Despite the attempt at reassurance, Volu's tone was tight.

"See, even _you_ don't know for sure. I should be there. Warren was wrong – I coulda _helped_!" Flint stormed.

###

"Behold, brethren, the avatars of the children of Ozshi'wanae," an oily voice announced, raising the hairs on Warren's arms and neck. The being spoke Turzent, but the next words were of a language his translator did not comprehend, sounding merely like hisses, deep tones, and clicks. Was it translating its own words for the benefit of the others who did not understand Turzent?

"You have something that belongs to us," Warren declared hoping his voice sounded much more confident than he felt. "You will return our property."

The sound that came next was likely the alien's version of laughter, and it sent more tremors down his spine. "You own nothing. You are nothing. Your very existence is an affront to Norzra'tir. Light fades. Darkness is eternal. Soon you will be no more."

Warren hadn't a clue what the alien was talking about, but the last sentence was not reassuring. Shadowy figures were moving closer as if they had been given a signal.

"Take another step and I fire. You will be first," he warned, the phase weapon leveled at its head. "Ettwanae, grab the nodes," he commanded without taking his eyes from the alien leader. Adrenaline overrode Ettwanae's earlier hesitation about sticking her hand within the red energy field and she snatched what they were risking everything for. As she brought the nodes toward the amulet, it suddenly glowed brightly and the gem-like memory nodes literally jumped the last distance and planted themselves into the two empty indentations. The amulet's radiance intensified briefly, then went dark.

"Thank you for completing the amulet, something only the hand of an Esha'Aru could do," the leader said in his slithery tone. "Now it holds its full potential. We have waited a long time for this moment."

Warren was instantly nauseous. Their daring break-in of the citadel had been allowed! The Dark Ones wanted them to get this far. They had been used. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid!' he berated himself.

"I see realization in your face. The Esha'Aru who denies himself. The Esha'Aru who knows little of herself. You are but tools of a power you cannot imagine. Now your purpose for Norzra'tir has been fulfilled. Time for your Aru to return to she that defies him. May you find the darkness."

'Shit. That's a death proclamation!' Warren's mind raced for any escape. Ettwanae pulled her phase weapon and pointed it at the speaker. Fear escalated when the aliens seemed unimpressed, though with no faces to read, it was impossible to know with certainty. Yet Warren couldn't deny the sinking feeling…

Their leader took a step forward as he again spoke in their native language and immediately the others scuttled nearer. 'Not going down without a fight!' Warren squeezed the trigger. The orange-tinged beam sliced the darkness straight into the black form and…nothing. The alien didn't even flinch. The phase beam simply disappeared within the alien.

"Goddamn son of _bitch_!" he swore as Ettwanae fired at another shadow. Same result. Their weapons were useless. Taala began praying loudly and seemed to collapse into herself.

The sickly laugh echoed through the chamber. "Now you see your fate. Brethren, destroy the sacrilege before us. May their cries cut to Ozshi'wanae's core."

'Bad, very bad,' Warren swallowed hard. Their circumstance was dire. As the black aliens edged closer, the trio backed up deeper into the Milky Way, holographic stars dancing across their bodies. "Taala, Ettwanae – the flashlights!"

Warren could see Ettwanae dig into her pocket for a lumas, but Taala was beyond hearing as she sunk to her knees whimpering. Dropping the phase gun, Warren pulled out the device that should blind the light-sensitive beings and maybe give them a chance to get to the exit – assuming they could get the keeping room door to open. Amidst scuttling sounds and the tightening circle of living blackness, Warren hit the on switch and… 'What the fuck?' He hit the button again. Nothing. He shook it. Still nothing. Darting his eyes to Ettwanae's, they were wide with horror as well. She was having no better luck.

The sickening pseudo laughter erupted again. "Behold the fools!" their leader announced to the room. "Brethren, enjoy the feast only their kind provides!"

Upon those words, Taala cried out her terror and curled into a fetal ball. Ettwanae's head snapped around at the Dark Ones surrounding them, her face reflecting horror that was a stake to Warren's heart.

'My fault – this is my fault!' were the last words that crossed his mind before he went into battle mode, regripping the lumas to use as a blunt weapon. He took a swing at the first appendage that reached out and the stick sailed through the inky-black arm, or were his eyes playing tricks? "Ettwanae, stay close!" he commanded upon seeing her backing up. That'd get her nowhere but into the grasp of the Dark Ones approaching from behind.

Moving toward Ettwanae, he swung again. Same result, except the icy hand that snagged his arm was very much solid. 'They phase! Shit, shit, shit!' Wresting his arm free, he tried to leap into the air, but fingers clamped down on the leading edges of his wings from behind as if anticipating the move. Before he could shake them off, more Dark Ones grabbed hold and icy coldness swept through him.

He heard Taala scream and Ettwanae gasp as he kicked at spindly legs hoping to connect with something solid. 'Got us killed!' he condemned himself. As another shadowy hand restrained his upper arm, he yanked with all his strength, managing to break the arm free. The Dark Ones weren't as strong as he feared, but he was hopelessly outnumbered. Then amid his struggles, something starting feeling odd – a draining sensation. Warren didn't have time to brace himself before the searing pain hit. As he stifled a moan as he heard her scream.

"Ettwanae!" he cried out as another scream erupted from her, joined quickly by one that had to be Taala. He tried to get a glimpse of the Eshaaru, but Dark Ones had moved between them, dragging him further from her. Adrenaline surged, and he lashed out in panic-driven desperation at the black forms. He fought to free an arm, shoulder, wing – any body part would do. A couple times, he connected with something momentarily, but just as quickly, the solidness evaporated. Half-solid, half-ghost blackness engulfed him. The pain intensified rapidly and he, too, wanted to scream. 'Won't give them the satisfaction!' he vowed. 'Goddamn bastards!'

Everywhere the Dark Ones touched felt like soul-chilling death. His body burned with icy fire – the sensation of life being sucked from him was excruciating. Sauron's draining touch years before felt similar, but this was far worse. Warren struggled against the escalating agony and steely hands. No matter which way he turned, shoved, kicked, or punched, he met with failure as Dark Ones enveloped him. Simultaneous gut-wrenching screams from the women filled him with one last burst of adrenaline, but he could gain no ground. Finally, the pain became too much, and a scream erupted from his throat as he staggered in anguish. Black shadows pressed in as strength left him. Ettwanae and Taala's cries suddenly sounded distant and muffled as consciousness began losing its battle against the darkness.

'No-o-o! Not…like…this…'

###

Ztar felt something odd in his chest and he jerked in the chair. No, that wasn't quite right. The sensation was coming from…where? He struggled to sort it out. The pain wasn't quite physical, but not quite empathic either. Then with a sudden knowing that defied logic and physics, he understood.

"_Archangel!_"

###

_A/N: At last…a good, old-fashion cliffhanger. I do have a penchant for them, but Soulbound hasn't had many truly suspenseful chapter endings. My hope is that this one leaves you anxious to learn the fate of our heroes. _

_See you for Chapter 32 soon!_


	33. Chapter 32

_A/N: Quite a predicament our heroes are in. Do they escape? Do Gtar-Cro and Den-neer come storming in? Read on to find out, of course._

**Chapter 32**

General Gtar-Cro's unease was intensifying. Archangel and his companions had been in the mysterious fortress for nearly half a standard hour. Without sensors that could penetrate inside, they were blind to what was transpiring. 'I've been a fool!' he raged to himself. 'Should have stopped them from entering.' Yet Ztar said to defend but clearly nothing about interfering, hence he'd gone against his better judgment and simply watched as the trio proceeded into the shrouded building. Now the General was in a quandary. How long to wait before taking action? What if the Human was already dead? He cringed at the thought of the Emperor's reaction to that outcome.

He made his decision, trusting instincts that rarely had led him astray. It may give away Archangel's presence, but likely not. Any beings advanced enough to build a structure and ship that neutered the Empire's most advanced scanners would know they had company. Turning to Viis, he followed the chain of command and quietly issued his orders to the woman who commanded Tre'endt's crew.

"Comm, send a message to the occupants of that installation on all channels. Give them five minutes to produce Archangel or we fire. Arm weapons to stress the seriousness of our demand."

"Yes, Captain!"

###

His life flashed through his mind in reverse. When he first saw Ettwanae, his return to Earth after Sat'rey, Ztar's face filled with love and longing, his 'death' from the Wynnar-Qxani virus, his near fatal plunge from the Sat'rey heavens, the terrorist rapes, the horrible moment he was told he was being turned over to the alien emperor to save Earth. The memories were growing darker and more traumatic, but he couldn't stop the onslaught. Betsy's gaping wounds from Sabretooth, the horrors of Apocalypse's lab, the agony when his white wings were savagely crushed and harpooned in the Morlock tunnels. Pain-filled images came at an ever-increasing speed, slamming into his awareness even as consciousness ebbed. Jean's sacrifice in the shuttle, Candy's life leaving her body, the deaths of his mother and father; Callisto's capture of him and the inflicted humiliations; the frightening day when his wings began to emerge. He cried out in emotional pain that was nearly as intense as the physical.

Warren Worthington III sank to his knees.

###

The room swirled and breathing was difficult. 'Empathic connection.' Ztar didn't question how that could be – how across the light-years, something that shouldn't be possible, was. All he knew was Archangel was in grave peril. Staggering across his chambers to where the PI sat on the countertop, he reached out but his shaking hand failed him and the device fell to the floor.

'Gods of Sat'rey, help me!' he pleaded in desperation that grew with each pounding heartbeat. On the floor himself in an instant, he snatched up the PI and yelled the single command to connect him with the one person who could save the man he loved.

"Gtar-Cro!"

###

Volu jerked with such intensity that Flint and Gatebi jumped.

'_My Poda!_' she screamed out with her mind. Only silence answered.

###

Bae had detected Aru discharge and Den-neer was within moments of initiating contact with the Tre'endt when the ship spoke.

"The imperial cruiser is now targeting weapons."

Den-neer started in his seat. Only moments earlier, the cruiser had armed weapons. "What's happening down there that they are reacting to?" he asked tersely.

"Nothing that I can explain. Their sensors should not be able to detect the Aru readings I am. However, the cruiser received a highly-encrypted message moments ago."

Den-neer was instantly angry. "And you failed to inform me?"

"You did not ask to be informed of communications to and from their ship."

Den-neer barely held his ire in check. "Likely, it's from the Emperor or another high-level official," he said more to himself than to her. "Somebody knows something we don't. Bae, move in. If they fire on the citadel, you are to do likewise, but only if it appears their weapons are ineffective and _only_ on my order. And I want to know _now_ what that message said," he snarled. The Eshaaru continued to do only what she was explicitly commanded to do – nothing more. He had known that; thus, her omission was actually his own fault through oversight. It would not happen again.

"Do you wish me to contact the other Eshaar'ne?"

The question surprised him – a contradiction in the Eshaar'ne's behavior, but he'd contemplate the whys later. "No. We will hold that option in reserve."

###

Darkness and agony engulfed him. Warren surrendered to it with a deep exhale, slipping away, leaving physical pain behind. His heart faltered, breathing stopped. A tunnel dilated away before him, a pinpoint of light in the distance. Consciousness moved toward that point, slowly at first, then gaining speed. But the light was so far away…so distant…he could gain no ground on it. Suddenly, Ztar's face sailed through the blackness beside him, serene and calm. 'Our connection' his soul knew. For a brief instant, Warren panicked wondering if the Turzent would survive his death. 'He will,' something/someone informed. Reassured, he reached an incorporeal hand to touch the man who had become quite dear to him. The image faded and the light point began growing.

###

Volu rose into the air that rippled with the power of her weaponry coming alive. 'I am coming, my Other!' She would not fail. She would not lose another joining. If she died in the attempt, so be it. Nothing mattered but saving her precious Poda.

Flint and Gatebi exchanged worried looks as they realized the ship was on the move and Volu did not respond to their inquiries.

###

"The Eshaar'ne is rising and her weapons are fully active."

Den-neer's hands curled into fists. "The Eshaaru are dying."

"Yes."

It was exactly what Den-neer and Phai had feared, but also planned for. Yet plan as they may, if they were too late or could not breach the citadel's shields, the Eshaaru were lost. "Stand ready to fire weapons."

###

Suddenly, screams of a different kind filled the chamber…shrieking, ear piercing wails that cut to the soul. Icy hands of death dropped away. Darkness evaporated and the tunnel became so brilliant that anyone looking upon it with physical eyes would have been blinded. Warren's plunge toward death slowed, stopped, then reversed and consciousness raced through the tunnel of light in the opposite direction.

Warren sucked in a deep, ragged breath of life as his eyes fluttered open. He was lying on his belly, his body shaking violently in its weakness and pain. Through near unconsciousness, he saw flickering lights pushing back the blackness. As the Dark Ones scrambled trying to escape the luminosity, he saw them…Booettu slaves with brightly burning torches held out ahead of them, their faces wrapped in rags, slits allowing sight. Was this the rebellion?

Seconds ticked off as the Booettus held the Dark Ones at bay. Healing factor kicked into overdrive searching for something physical to heal. The familiar whizzing sensation filled Warren's rising consciousness, but he was not physically injured and the mutant ability had nothing to repair. Strength, though, began to return and pain abate. Fighting to regain full consciousness, he lifted his head and chest to scan the room for her. Between the many pairs of shuffling legs, both Booettu and Dark Ones, he spotted her. Lying on the floor on her back, wings spread around her, Ettwanae was still as death. Her chest did not rise and fall. His heart nearly stopped.

"Ettwanae!" he cried in a choked voice. Gathering what strength his body could muster, he crawled to her as Booettu pressed back the shadows. 'Oh, god, please, no. Please let her be alive, please!' Gathering her unmoving body into his arms, he cradled her and cooed her name. "Ettwanae, _please_," he begged, checking for a pulse. Then her eyelids fluttered and she took a ragged breath. 'Thank god!'

"Warren?" the weak question came as she struggled to open her eyes.

Other screams began to mingle with the nerve-shattering cries of the Dark Ones. He looked around – two of the slaves had been grabbed from behind, black arms entwining them as they struggled futilely. The words floated through his head amidst the mental cobwebs. "The being cringed in the light of my luminary and its inky blackness backed away." But their lumas were rendered inoperable by the Dark Ones. Would the torches be enough?

Warren struggled to regain his ability to think as the tide began turning against the brave Booettus, their brief uprising was being squelched. One by one, torches were being extinguished. Resignation brought tears – they were trapped and without weapons, no way to defend themselves. Defeated. All would perish in the dark lair. More Booettus screamed as their lifeforce was stolen. A single, sickening laughter reverberated through the rocky chamber.

###

"Phase cannons at your command, Captain."

Captain Viis stood next to General Gtar-Cro, their eyes jointly locked onto the holo image of the black citadel floating at the front of the Tre'endt's bridge. She had no idea whether or not their phase weapon would penetrate the shields their sensors could not. The Emperor said Archangel was dying. How the man knew from his distant location on Sat'rey was hard to fathom, but she did not question…his telepathic prowess was unmatched as far as she knew. Viis opened her mouth to issue the order-

"Captain!" the Tre'endt's tactical officer called out urgently. "The Hydeera signature is moving and may have activated weapons, but sensors are uncertain as to what the readings indicate. If weapons, the power signature is nothing we've seen before."

###

'Where there is life, there is hope.' Xavier's words from the past whispered in his mind. As Warren watched the bravery of the Booettu, a tear trailed down his cheek. "Where's the hope here?" he questioned his old friend and mentor.

Ettwanae met his eyes when he spoke, her eyes watery as well. "I love you," she offered softly.

Then something clicked in his brain and he felt his eyes widen with inspiration. Looking down into the angelic face, he worried she was not yet strong enough, but what did they have to lose? More screams echoed through the chamber and his blood ran as ice.

"Ettwanae, we need to join like we did when we healed Volu. Can you do that?"

She nodded, the spark of understanding glinting in her eyes.

"Quickly. We need to make a lot of light as fast as possible." Shaking from both weakness and growing hope, he prepared himself. 'If only the Booettu can hold off the Dark Ones a little longer...'

Ettwanae closed her eyes and grew very still. For what seemed like an eternity, nothing happened. He forced himself to ignore the screams, shouts, and chaos surrounding them, as the woman clutched in his arms started to glow from beneath her skin, softly at first, then with rapidly increasing intensity. Golden luminescence spread beyond her body to encompass his. A sudden tug on something not physical, same as he felt when they healed Volu, caused him to jerk. Then the drawing sensation from that nameless part deep inside him quickly followed. He sat in fascination as his own skin began to radiate the same golden aura as energy flowed from him to Ettwanae. Brighter and brighter. Her wings shone with brilliance so intense he had to squeeze shut his eyes, but it really didn't help.

Surrendering to the pull, Warren let her take whatever was needed as Ettwanae absorbed and converted his channeled Source into healing energy and released it. The glow grew brighter by the second. The room whirled around him in a wild and surreal blend of cries, shouts, fighting, and throbbing sensation.

New screams. Howls. Shrill shrieks. It was deafening. The Source poured through Ettwanae. She shuddered violently. More. And still more. Pain drove Warren to moan and sway. He gripped Ettwanae closely to him, burying her face into his chest. He forced himself to ignore the pain and focused on conjuring the passionate energy he'd shared with Ztar so many times. Now was not the time to hold back. Power surged in a tidal wave through his quaking body. Wings spread wide of their own accord as light pulsed under skin and feathers with physical drumming until it exploded from him. He screamed at the release.

###

Volu pulled up short to hover at the edge of the citadel valley. The energy burst was unmistakable – Source. One or both Eshaaru were alive! In the next moment, she praised Ozshi'wanae…the energy signature confirmed it was being filtered through Ettwanae. Within moments, the energy readings morphed and a new signature joined Ettwanae's. Warren lived as well!

###

"Captain Viis, something is happening down there! I have readings the computers don't recognize. Some form of energy is coming from the citadel, bypassing their shields."

"A weapon?" Viis asked her bridge crew.

"If it is, it's not a focused weapon – the readings are too dispersed," the tactical officer responded.

The Captain and the General exchanged questioning looks.

"Hold fire," Gtar-Cro made the call.

###

Nothing existed but blinding brilliance and surging power. It encompassed everything. No one could escape. Booettu and Dark One alike wilted under its sun-like intensity. Bursting through the chamber door, still it grew. Shafts of light pierced the walls of the keeping chamber like hot blades through butter, flooding the surrounding rooms. Dark Ones ran, scattering in a vain attempt to outrun what was impossible to elude. They dropped where it touched them, screaming their deaths.

Warren's awareness of the physical and self left him. He was one with the Light. Consciousness expanded and he watched with detachment as the soulless fell and shriveled in their tracks. Farther and farther Light reached. The citadel became a blinding death trap for the black, empty shells. Shrieking erupted in an ever-expanding circle throughout the fortress as brilliance cut through wall after wall. Everywhere Light's touch penetrated, death followed.

There were others present – bright and innocent souls that needed protection and healing. Those he shielded and Light spared them. Then he merged with those souls to sooth their conflictions and brought them peace. Another, gentler force embraced the innocents and restored their encasements. All was as it should be.

###

Far above, the Tre'endt's bridge crew sat spellbound as the first ray sliced through the fortress's outer wall. More and more blinding light rays erupted, creating an early dawn on the mountainside.

"By the gods!" Gtar-Cro exclaimed.

###

Far below, first one villager, then another, and another were awakened by light streaming through their windows, but it was not the light of sunrise. Leaping out of bed, many eyes looked up to the home of their gods. Shafts of light shot out here and there from the sacred fortress with the intensity of the mid-day sun. Then rapidly the few shafts became many, streams of radiance shooting in all directions, illuminating the mountainside and the valley below. People cried out in fear. Some ran, afraid the rays would hit the village. But when a light beam struck, nothing happened. As it became apparent the barrage would do no harm, they watched transfixed as brilliance consumed the citadel until it became only a lucent ball more intense than Neu's sun, and they had to shield their eyes or turned away.

The blinding light faded just as the sun broke the horizon. Casting their eyes up, the villagers saw only rock and the bare mountain where the home of their gods once rested. Many dropped to their knees in disbelief. Some wept.

###

Warren was in his body once again with a suddenness that rocked him physically and mentally. He drew in a deep, shaky breath to steady himself, hoping to dispel the wooziness and mind-fog. For several seconds, he couldn't remember where he was, but then memory rushed back. 'Citadel. Dark Ones. Need light…' Something felt different about what they had done. It hadn't been like Volu's healing. It was… Warren fought for definition and recall. Fleeting images, ghost sensations – they were all that came to him.

Awareness that someone was on his lap came next, and he rubbed his eyes to clear his vision. It was Ettwanae. She was shaking like a leaf and had her eyes squeezed tight, but the Eshaaru was alive.

###

/ _My Poda?_ / Volu's voice in Ettwanae's mind was more emotion than words.

/ _I am here, my Other,_ / she sent back with loving feelings.

/ _Praise Ozshi'wanae! I am coming._ /

Ettwanae felt someone shift beneath her – it could only be Warren. Alive! / _Hold your position until I call you._ / She would not endanger her Other until she knew it was safe.

/ _The Dark Ones are no more, my Poda,_ / the Eshaar'ne responded as if reading her mind.

/ _Please, wait where you – I don't want to frighten the Booettus._ /

Afraid to open her eyes, she kept them closed and prayed to Ozshi'wanae the courageous Booettus had not been harmed.

###

At first, there was only silence on the mountainside. Amber light of sunrise bathed them. Vision having cleared, Warren glanced around, his head spinning from the movement. What he saw stunned him. The citadel was no more – no rubble, no bodies of the Dark Ones, nothing. It was as if they and their mountain fortress never existed. The Booettus were sitting up and getting to their feet, rubbing their eyes or blinking and appeared to be in various degrees of shock and bewilderment, but unharmed. Taala was already walking amongst her people, checking on them, speaking softly.

"Ettwanae?" Warren asked gently. "Open your eyes. It's over."

Her face relaxed and eyelids gave way to reveal those incredible blue orbs. He smiled down.

"We're alive," she declared.

He smiled. "Yes."

"And we won."

"We did."

Her hand went to her chest to the find the amulet. Lifting it up with an unsteady hand, she checked the nodes. She let out a relieved sigh. "It's complete, Warren." Awe filled her voice as she gazed at the amulet, now with all three points filled. "We did it!" she proclaimed as she worked to sit up.

"Easy now. If you feel anything like I do, you're weak."

She positioned herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist, cheek resting on his shoulder. They remained there, recovering, watching as the former slaves realized their freedom. It was quickly obvious that whatever adaptations the aliens had performed on the Booettus had been undone and they could stand in the rising sun without covering their eyes. The former slaves exchanged joyful hugs and heartwarming sounds of happiness lilted through the air. Warren was overcome with deep satisfaction at what they had accomplished, and he reveled in their elation.

"How did we do all this?" he wondered aloud, confused how light could annihilate a building, its contents, and the Dark Ones, yet leave the Neu natives untouched. No, not untouched. Healed.

"It was The Source. Perhaps Ozshi'wanae's own hand guided it and spared what was good."

"Maybe the new memory nodes will hold more answers."

"Perhaps," Ettwanae hoped with him, rubbing his back as she snuggled deeper into him.

She felt so perfect in his arms. Warren noticed there was no discomfort between them – no ache or need or longing, just soothing contentment. 'Is this what it will be like if we can bond?' He smelled her hair, scented lightly with sweat, but still nice. He stroked her wing splayed to the side, its silky texture sensual across his palm and fingertips. 'Wonderful,' he thought as peacefulness sank deep, maybe all the way to his soul. Warren sighed dreamily as they clung to one another. Then, subtly, the stirrings began. 'All good things come to an end,' and he shifted to ease her away.

Taala approached and kneeled. One by one, the Booettus gathered, genuflecting in a circle around them, faces beaming at their saviors. "Thank you," she said, eyes wide with wonder. "You have freed my people from the darkness. You are the _true_ gods of Neu. You are Attarru!" Then she prostrated herself to them.

Warren was alarmed. Ettwanae turned to him, concern evident on her face. "No, Taala, we are not gods, or messengers of gods, or in any way connected with gods. Please, sit up." The woman hesitated. "Please, Taala." Slowly, the woman obeyed, her expression revealing confusion. "We have a special gift – that's all. And it is as much of a surprise to us as it is to you that the Dark Ones perished by it."

"But the legends of old – they tell us beings of light who will come and show us the way of goodness and life. You are of light!"

What the Neu legend said or didn't say, he had no way of knowing, but it seemed an extraordinary coincidence indeed. "Does your legend say the beings are gods?"

She looked from them to the others. Taala quickly translated Warren's question to others.

"No," an older Neu male answered. Warren recognized the voice – Neto's. "The words of the legend do not call them gods," he said with authority.

"We don't claim to be your Attarru, but if we fulfilled prophecy, then by your legend, we are not gods. Remember us only as travelers who were able to help and then left you to reclaim your lives and determine your own destiny." Taala again translated.

"The Dark Ones were _false_ gods!" an elderly man said defiantly as he got to his feet. "They promised life and prosperity, yet gave only fear and anguish. We will not be lead astray again."

Warren felt it was best not to interfere with the emerging civilization any more than they and the Dark Ones already had. Still shaky, he struggled to stand. Several of the men jumped to their feet to help both him and Ettwanae rise.

"Thank you. We must leave now," Ettwanae explained.

One of the Booettu suddenly shouted and pointed to the sky. Everyone looked up. An uncloaked Volu was coming in for a landing.

"Don't be afraid. I called her. She is a friend." Ettwanae shared while Taala interpreted. "She was very worried," Ettwanae added with a warm smile to Warren.

With Volu settled on what once was the floor of the citadel, Warren and Ettwanae made their way unsteadily to her. Gatebi and Flint were waiting just inside the bay opening. Stepping into Volu, they turned back to the people they'd free from slavery.

"Thank you, friend Warren and friend Ettwanae. May peace fill your soul and be your constant companion," Taala called out her blessing.

"Thank you, friend Taala. Peace be with you and your people as well," Warren wished. As soon as Volu dilated the hatch closed, Gatebi and Flint were at their sides – Gatebi to Ettwanae and Flint to Warren.

"We did it!" Ettwanae exclaimed as Gatebi helped her to the floor. Holding out the completed amulet, she beamed despite her obvious fatigue. "It's whole!"

Gatebi smiled hugely and touched the amulet, tracing her finger over the colored gem-like memory nodes at each point of the circumcircled triangle. "It's even more beautiful now."

Warren realized just how depleted he felt and how pale Ettwanae was. "Need to sit," he told Flint who was still holding him up as a wave of nausea flopped his stomach.

"Congrats, guys!" Flint cuffed Warren on the shoulder as he slid down the wall to the safety of the bay deck. "Next time, though, I'm comin' along. Maybe then you wouldn't end up like this," he chastised with a sweep of his hand to the two conquering heroes parked on the floor. "We need ta hear all 'bout what the hell went on in there!"

"First, Flint, they need sustenance and then rest," Volu commanded. "Their bio-readings are weak."

With he and Ettwanae safely settled on the floor, the other two scurried to get food and drink. Gatebi and Flint, to Warren's amazement, sat quietly and allowed he and Ettwanae eat without interruption. 'Maybe we do look like death warmed over – pretty much how I feel,' he concluded.

Several minutes later, with monle and Ecanle bars consumed and washed down with a sugary juice for even more quick energy, he felt much stronger and Ettwanae's color had returned.

"Thanks, everyone," Warren said, swallowing the last of the nutrient bar.

Flint jumped off the crate he'd been sitting on, unable to keep quiet any longer. "You guys scared the _shit_ outta us!" he exclaimed, arms gesturing wildly as if holding in the declaration the past minutes required a physical release of energy. "We thought the whole damn place was gonna blow and take ya with it. Crazy light show, things disintegrating…thought you was dead meat for sure!"

"Volu explained it was The Source and told us you would not be harmed by it," Gatebi quickly inserted as clarification.

"But what _else_ was goin' on in there, we didn't know! Fuck, those Dark Ones coulda been killin' them!" Flint seemed determined to hang onto his interpretation of events as he glared at Gatebi.

Gatebi sighed at the Flint's drama. "No, we did not know exactly what was happening, but Volu understood the citadel was being destroyed by you – she told us we should wait a bit longer before doing what Flint was ranting…'haul ass over there and kick some Dark asses' if I remember the sentiment correctly. He was quite animated."

Warren could only laugh as he imagined the scene. Ettwanae joined in.

"Oh sure, you guys can laugh now, but you weren't seein' what we was. When Volu hovered us up high and we watched out the bay door – holy motherlode of shit!" Suddenly, his demeanor changed to impressed as his eyes darted between Warren and Ettwanae. "You two got some kickass power. We all felt it – some kinda, I don't know, shockwave or somethin'! Weird is all I can say. And then the way that citadel just like fuckin' _vaporized?_" His eyes widened at the memory. "Nothing left but you and the locals. Fuckin' amazing!"

Ettwanae shook her head. "It was not us, Flint. It was Ozshi'wanae. We simply channeled her power."

Flint leaned against his crate and crossed his arms. "Still fuckin' amazing."

Warren eased himself off the floor and offered a hand to Ettwanae to help her up. "To state the obvious, it's been a rough night. We all need to get some rest. First, Volu, would you lay in a course to Tchutchka Centrus? I have that business to take care of." Three pairs of eyes snapped his direction.

"Yes, Warren."

"_What_? Why? Are we going to see Tider again?" Ettwanae questioned, her eyes did not waiver from his.

"No, not Tider. I have an imperial matter that Ztar asked me to handle. It shouldn't take more than a day," he explained vaguely, hoping no one would press the issue. "Meanwhile, we all need to sleep. After that, we'll give you a play-by-play of what happened in the citadel," he added with a glance between Flint and Gatebi. "Then we need to figure out what the amulet can do for us now that it's complete." He hoped that would divert attention away from Tchutchka.

As everyone began moving toward the lift, Ettwanae pulled on his arm and he turned to met her face again.

"What is going on? What does Ztar want of you?"

Warren silently thanked Volu for the comnet blackout she insisted upon. "I'm sorry, but it's imperial business – part of my Court duties. Nothing to worry about."

Her face told him she was not convinced, but she didn't ask any more questions. A coolness in her attitude immediately followed, however. 'She's pissed,' he surmised. 'Probably telepathically asking Volu what she knows and why the quick agreement. Wonder what Volu is telling her?'

###

Ettwanae's irritation continued to build as she headed for her room. Dropping on her bed with a huff, she wondered about the Eshaar'ne's attitude. Volu was being unusually evasive to her mental queries. Leaning against the wall, she pulled out the amulet. It looked so perfect now; complete and whole. She didn't want to sleep – she wanted to dive into the memory nodes she'd been trying to find for two years. Yet she was afraid of what she'd learn. Afraid she'd find out her people were truly gone; that she was the last of their kind. Warren aside, of course, as he still denied he was Eshaaru. The thought of Warren swept her mind back to the Tchutchka issue.

"Volu, would you _please_ tell me what you know about us returning to Tchutchka?" she demanded.

"Warren told me after his last comm to the Emperor that he was required to return there and so we are." Volu's voice was matter-of-fact, as if this sudden cooperation with the Imperial government was nothing unusual.

"But why? What does the Emperor want him to do? I know you know – you monitor everything."

"Warren requested his conversation with Emperor Ztar be private."

Ettwanae contemplated the statement. Eshaar'ne couldn't lie. Somehow, someway the U'larr built that into their genetic makeup. But you don't need to lie to lead someone to believe you're saying something you are not.

"Volu…" she said in an accusatory tone, rising irritability picking at her edges.

"Ettwanae, you need sleep. For now, we must trust Warren. Let him deal with what the Emperor requested and then we can continue on our search for Etxan'Ir."

She wanted to protest and argue, but she knew from experience that pressuring Volu would do no good. 'Let it go for now,' she told himself despite her darkening mood. Shifting mental gears, she rotated the amulet in her fingers examining the newly reunited nodes. The memory node of her parents' was a deep amethyst. The node resting in the Eshaaru history point was in an equally dark ruby red. The third held more magenta and the story of her lineage. They were beautiful and burned with an inner fire as she moved the amulet in the light.

Irritability was easing and sleep beckoned seductively as she took full measure of her weariness. "I want to start working with the amulet as soon as I wake up."

"Yes, my Poda."

Stripping out of her clothes without ever leaving the bed, Ettwanae snuggled in deep and found herself falling into blissful sleep immediately.

###

Gtar-Cro could hardly believe what he'd seen. The energy release they witnessed had completely destroyed the fortress and its contents without a trace, yet Archangel, the Sat'rey female, and the Neu natives were unharmed. There was no sign of the black shuttle either. And as soon as the destruction of the facility was a foregone conclusion, the mysterious mothership had shot out of the Neu system.

Preliminary analysis of the sensor readings made the disbelief more profound. What it told him shouldn't be possible, but the science was undeniable. The question was who or what created a burst of _lifeforce_ energy so powerful as to cause total yet selective destruction? Likely, someone still alive on the mountainside was responsible, but who? Unfortunately, scans of the survivors provided no answer.

The General exited the bridge and entered his ready room. This would be a fascinating comm to the anxiously waiting Emperor.

###

Volu detected something lying amongst the clothes tossed to the floor – a feather. Two lost feathers thus far. They could be explained away by other causes, such as stress, but that time of year was approaching. Most Eshaaru breezed through the annual molt according to her medical memories, but not Ettwanae; at least not the two molts during which Volu had known her. Other signs were also beginning to show themselves, such as elevating hormonal levels. If history repeated itself, uncomfortable times were ahead. Volu noted she must speak with Gatebi about ensuring enough of the right foods were in storage. If not, they'd take care of that business while on Tchutchka Centrus.

Another even more dire issue loomed. Volu nearly told Ettwanae and had considered telling Warren, but in the end, decided they had enough worries. The Turzent cruiser Volu detected in Neu orbit disturbed her on many levels. For a ship to appear at precisely the time of the citadel mission was beyond coincidence. If it had been any lesser ship, Volu would have dealt with it, but it was a heavily armed military flagship. Even her formidable weapon would be challenged to make a quick kill. No, she'd decided to let it be and give no signs she was aware of it. Let them be puzzled.

Coincidence aside, the timing could only mean one thing – someone betrayed them. Warren knew, but she had monitored all his communications and he never once mentioned Neu. Tider knew and may have told military intelligence either willingly or unwillingly. The information broker was the most likely source. Had Ztar ordered the ship to Neu to watch over his member of Court? Or did he have designs on Ettwanae? There was one more possibility…the only other time when someone could have learned of their destination – the alley attack and the mysterious savior. Murder by telekinesis fit what Warren and Ettwanae described. Volu knew of one pursuer who was likely telekinetic _and_ telepathic. Warren had no significant natural mental shields, unlike Ettwanae. Was Neu taken from Warren's mind in the alley? Was Ettwanae and Warren's protector on Tchutchka actually the man who had kidnapped Ettwanae and attempted to take Warren? The thought was extremely disturbing.

Regardless of how the military cruiser had come to witness the event on Neu, it was equally troubling. Those aboard had seen too much. She sighed as best an Eshaar'ne could. Emperor Ztar not only knew of Ettwanae, but would soon learn what she and Warren could conjure together. And so would his formidable military – the ramifications were frightening.

The Eshaar'ne came to a decision. She'd keep the military's presence to herself. Warren professed Ztar could be trusted. The Emperor had been handed a two-fold opportunity to prove him right. Time would reveal whether or not Warren's faith was well placed.

###

_A/N: Thank you, faithful readers – the visitor counter sings your praises, but not nearly as much as an occasional review. But you have all chosen to be anonymous, and I respect that. Hope you have enjoyed the past couple chapters as the first story arc concludes._

_With the amulet complete, the next big question is what will it reveal? Our intrepid crew is extremely anxious to know and next chapter, we'll all find out. _

_The other building story arc is the Tchut fiasco. And you didn't forget about Warren and Ettwanae's agreement to attempt to force a bonding after Neu, did you? That attempt takes on even greater significance in the wake of obtaining the nodes. As Soulbound begins the slow wrap up, many questions remain, Tchut comes to a head, a humorous revelation pops up along with familiar characters from the past, and several surprises are in store, including Warren faces decisions that will impact everyone aboard Volu. _

_Not to worry, though, still plenty of Soulbound coming your way. _


	34. Chapter 33

_A/N: Happy New Year all! Hope 2011 will be good to you and yours. Sorry to have been slow to upload this installment - needed to get out of a bit of an editing funk. Winter just doesn't inspire me – simply want to hibernate and do nothing. And then this chapter seemed to fight me every step of the way. Still not completely happy with it, but it's time to move on. _

_Without further ado, let's find out what information Ettwanae and Warren risked so much to gain. _

**Chapter 33**

Ettwanae rose, grabbed a robe, and slipped onto the bridge. She'd waste no more time on sleep. Everyone else was likely deep in slumber, but all she had managed was a nap. Too much anticipation, too much impatience. She had to know.

Slipping quickly onto Volu's bridge, she took her seat and nestled the amulet carefully into the depression literally made for it in the control panel. Her hands were shaking from excitement, and perhaps a touch of fear. What would she learn? The finely filigreed talisman shone briefly to signal recognition and then returned to its multi-toned golden color.

"Which node do you wish me to scan first?" Volu queried with unmistakable anticipation.

"Our people's history, then my lineage records. Scan both." She nearly squirmed with eagerness as the ruby node danced with an internal light. Seconds ticked by in excruciating slowness. "Well, Volu?"

"Another few moments, Poda."

More agonizing seconds passed as the second gem glowed with magenta fire. Would they find where their people had gone? Why they left? Even more importantly, were any of them still nearby? If so, where did they hide – how could they find them? And what of clues to Etxan'Ir? She knew it would not tell them where the vast library was, but perhaps some information was stored about its general location. She could hold her tongue no longer.

"Volu, please! Does it tell us where our people are?" Then her heart began to lurch – Volu was silent too long. 'Please, goddess – please give me the answers I seek!'

"My precious Poda," Volu's voice was gentle, but constricted. Ettwanae's chest tightened, her pulse quickened, and wings twitched. Something was very wrong. "The ancestral node is as we expected – the lineage of your parents. The racial node talks much about the ancient history of our people, but it is mostly old knowledge – information we already have. There appears to be a very long, dark period in our history of which little is known. It was apparently prior to or during that time our people were scattered and separated from the U'larr. It gives little in the way of explanation beyond speculation. There is no record of their fate aside from your direct ancestors."

Ettwanae felt as though she'd been slapped. Hard. "How can that _be_? It must be recorded what happen, where they went! Anything about who remains? Why did they leave? Why did some, like my parents, stay behind? There _have_ to be answers, Volu! My mother said all the answers would be in the nodes!" She refused to believe such vital information was not recorded. Volu had misread.

"My Poda, to be precise, your mother said all the answers would be found once the amulet was _whole_. It is possible we misunderstood – perhaps she meant not just complete, but _activated_. Perhaps answers lie within Etxan'Ir."

"But I _can't _activate the amulet – Warren is bound to Ztar!" she decried the injustice. So much had been pinned on finding the missing nodes. Her stomach lurched and she felt ill. "No, this is not right. Read them again. You have missed something. Perhaps a secret file…" she demanded, grasping at straws.

"My soul hurts with yours, Poda. I held your same hope. The nodes do contain information we- _I_ likely lost from before. That information is valuable. While they do not hold all we seek, the nodes tell us much. Do you wish to hear what I have learned?"

Ettwanae couldn't focus on what Volu was saying – she was reeling from the shattering of a dream.

/ _Poda, share your thoughts…_ / the tender voice in her head encouraged.

Tears were coming and her throat and chest were so tight, Ettwanae feared she wouldn't be able to breathe much longer. Speaking was impossible. / _I prayed we'd find out everything – I let myself believe we would. And now-? What _happened_ to our people, Volu?_ / A single sob escaped, but she stopped herself from breaking down completely.

/ _The node records that some form of cataclysmic event took place roughly 15,000 imperial years ago to the best estimate of the Eshaar'ne who inherited this line of memories. That Eshaar'ne was named Tyryn. She was born a long time after whatever happened and in the death throes of her mother. The memory transfer from mother to daughter was incomplete – only the oldest, deepest memories were given the newborn Tyryn; memories from before something her mother had called The Dark Coming. Tyryn believed her mother to have been gravely injured by forces seeking to destroy our races. Why she believed so, Tyryn did not record. Young Tyryn was alone for a long time. She searched desperately for our people and had nearly given in to __ru'zha several times. Then by the grace of Ozshi'wanae, she found what she sought – an Eshaaru, one who was not joined. He and his soulbound were on a planet, tending to the needs of its primitive peoples. His name was D'Orito and she was D'Ousar. Years earlier, their own Eshaar'ne was dying. To save their lives, the Eshaar'ne left them on a planet the indigenous race called Turzen._ /

Volu stopped and at first Ettwanae was puzzled why. Then Volu's words replayed in her mind. Two Eshaaru on a primitive Turzen… "Volu, are you saying D'Orito and D'Ousar were the basis for the Turzent legend?"

"I am certain of it. According to Tyryn's recordings, they helped the Turzents advance in many ways – agriculturally and scientifically. They healed many of their sick and helped unite several warring tribes into a single stable government."

"That is amazing!" Ettwanae could hardly believe that such a revelation had been given to her. The legendary Esserru were indeed Eshaaru – it was confirmed. "What else? What happened to them?"

"Tyryn, D'Orito, and D'Ousar remained on Turzen for a time after the new joining before deciding to leave in search of our people. The soulbounds had two children, Auril, a male, and Alue, female. The couple searched in vein for mates for their children. In desperation to save the race, brother and sister eventually mated, something rare but allowed under the circumstances. Aru and Ura must have permitted it as they became soulbounds and had offspring. Upon their bonding, they became Z'Auril and Z'Alue."

Ettwanae was a little taken aback by the news, but could understand the need to breed by whatever means available. "Did they _ever_ find other Eshaaru?"

"Yes, but much later and only a few times over the course of the memory node, which spans several generations. Bits and pieces of our peoples' history were added with each meeting, but a complete picture of what occurred during The Dark Coming and the thousands of years following was never entirely pieced together."

"So D'Orito and D'Ousar did not know what happened during The Dark Coming, where our people went…_nothing_?"

"The memories indicate that was the case. Little is recorded about the time before their joining. That knowledge is likely lost to history – at least through your ancestors and those they met."

"Any idea how long after The Dark Coming Tyryn was born?"

"Her best estimate was several thousand years – perhaps as many as 7,000, as translated into modern imperial years."

"What of D'Orito's amulet – the one from his prior Eshaar'ne? It must have the memories of those ancestors?"

"It is recorded that he and Tyryn forged a new amulet and nodes. D'Orito added orally what he knew of Eshaaru history, and his and D'Ousar's lineages, which tells me his amulet was lost or destroyed. D'Orito does note his great disappointment upon learning the memory framework given to Tyryn by her mother was incomplete. He and his soulbound had hoped to gain more information than their previous Eshaar'ne had possessed, but that was not to be the case. The gap in history remained."

Ettwanae's heart sunk. Then she jerked mentally. "A lost amulet, nodes…an Eshaar'ne with incomplete memories. History repeated itself with you and me, Volu. It's as if the universe wants to erase what happened – prevent us from knowing."

"One could interpret it so." Volu's voice was laden with remorse.

Ettwanae hadn't meant to reopen old wounds. "Volu, you have nothing to regret – your memory loss was is from unbearable grief. Do not blame yourself. I thank Ozshi'wanae every day that my mother found you in time. I love you, Volu," she added, hoping to ease the Eshaar'ne's guilt for nearly surrendering herself to suicide. Then Ettwanae refocus them on the nodes. "At least D'Orito and D'Ousar could fully activate the new amulet – they were soulbounds."

"Yes, they had that advantage."

"Did D'Orito and his soulbound gather for Etxan'Ir?"

Hesitation. "They chose another path after leaving Turzen."

Ettwanae was getting an uneasy feeling. Volu's mood wasn't lifting and whispers of what Ettwanae didn't want to hear skirted the edge of her thoughts. "What happened to the bonded siblings?" The change in subject came without bidding. Subconscious avoidance?

"Tyryn mated with an Eshaar'ne they encountered in their journeys, and she birthed Sael. Z'Auril and Z'Alue left with Sael shortly thereafter. As your mother had done for you, D'Orito did for their children – created nodes to transfer all they knew. Those nodes were joined with the amulet Sael forged. That is the lineage of your nodes. No more is recorded about D'Orito, D'Ousar, or Tyryn. Z'Auril recorded he believed their parents died not long after the families went separate ways as they lost contact…he felt perhaps they were killed by the Shozen."

Ettwanae pulled her wings in close at the name. "The Shozen have hunted us that long?"

"It appears they are an old enemy."

"They should not have separated! There is strength in numbers."

"But also danger. If enemies found and killed them as a group, then another lineage would be forever gone."

Ettwanae nodded as she saw the logic in what they did. "What did the children do after leaving with Sael?"

Tension suddenly filled the bridge and unease rose. "The siblings decided to begin again the ancient work of knowledge gathering, work their parents had abandoned at some point before Turzen. As Sael noted, it gave them a purpose other than searching for more Eshaaru and Eshaar'ne; a search that had apparently consumed D'Orito and D'Ousar for a very long time."

There it was again – that truth Ettwanae didn't want to hear. As silence stretched out, she suspected Volu was waiting for her either to realize what was being implied or admit it. She closed her eyes and clenched her hands. "I don't understand. If D'Orito and D'Ousar served Etxan'Ir, even for a while…if Z'Auril and Z'Alue also served Etxan'Ir. If both pairs sought and did not find our people…" Her heart screamed its denial. "But mother's message – she _said_ the answers would be revealed!"

"I have no explanation, Poda. Yet as with any databank, only what is inputted can be withdrawn. If knowledge-gathering truly ceased for thousands of years after the catastrophe, if all who knew left or died without transferring that knowing, then the answers," Volu seemed to take in a breath, "might not be there."

"But mother said…!" she protested, refusing to let hope die.

Volu remained quiet for many heartbeats. "It is also possible Etxan'Ir has not shared that information for reasons unknown. Perhaps the knowledge is being held for the right time or person. Perhaps it is knowledge too precious or too dangerous to be commonly held…that it is being withheld as a way to protect our surviving peoples. We can only speculate, my Poda."

Ettwanae's mind raced with the idea. It made sense. If where their people had fled was common knowledge and the Shozen somehow acquired it, all could be lost. Yet that was a double-edged protection – their people's secret refuge would be safeguarded, but that would also make it impossible for any straggling Eshaaru and Eshaar'ne to find them. "I will pray that Etxan'Ir holds the knowledge and will reveal it to us."

"I pray that will be so, as well, my Poda. We must have faith. Your mother would not have offered such hope lightly."

"She must have known something." Hope dangled from her words.

Ettwanae let the new knowledge settle. The nodes did fill gaps and provided much background information, yet the big questions remained unanswered – what happened to scatter their people in the first place, where had they gone, why did her ancestral gatherers not know the answers. And on a much more personal note, was her mother alive?

"I want to begin viewing the node memories on my own, Volu."

"I anticipated you would. Where do you wish to start?"

"My lineage." Thus, Ettwanae began to explore all that was recorded through the nodes created by her mother and linked to amulet forged by Volu after the death of her first Other and then hidden away in the family repository to await Ettwanae's coming of age and joining with the Eshaar'ne waiting in stasis. It would take a long time to wade through all the information, but Ettwanae looked forward to the journey of discovering who she was.

###

The Council was breathing a tentative sigh of relief. If plan worked, Archangel would be in a far less precarious situation with Tchutchka Centrus Planetary Security. Ztar's Court, and thus the Empire, would not mired in controversy over perceived power abuse. The details needed to fall into place, but Elder Phai predicted success. She had no doubt Den-neer's work would be convincing.

Project 1165, or "Failsafe" as she had privately dubbed it, would continue. Actually, it would benefit from her solution. According to recent reports, the project had advanced as far as Phai believed possible with the current team and resources. Time for a little external aid to push Failsafe toward its ultimate goal. Phai would provide that while giving the Tchut authorities something more than speculation as to why Archangel and his companion were accosted. Several low level Etagllot scientists would be sacrificed, but they were expendable – the Eshaaru pair and imperial stability were not.

Phai allowed herself some self-satisfaction – a two-prong solution from a single, expenditure of resources was efficient. She liked efficiency.

Prime Director Sident of Biotechnology would be instructed to assemble another Failsafe project team. A new research outpost was already being prepared beyond the reach of the Turzent Empire, Systems Commonwealth, or the increasingly hostile Par-Sen System government…and hopefully from the even greater enemy.

Head Researcher al'Verta Hercjell would remain in charge of Failsafe as under her direction, the project was actually ahead of schedule. She was proving herself as valuable as the Prime Director praised her to be. One day, she may indeed be his successor, if the organization survived long enough. In the present, however, Hercjell needed to complete the task before her. One last significant resource was required to ensure Failsafe's success. Phai would personally see to the transfer when all was ready.

She turned thoughts from anticipated triumphs, to the realized. Neu. The Eshaaru pair performed beyond expectations. Success silenced the remaining challenges to her decision to send Archangel and Ettwanae into the enemy's lair. It had been a tremendous risk, true – but the power unleashed was spectacular to behold. Millenniums had passed since anyone had witnessed such a glorious sight.

Elder Phai recalled with satisfaction the faces of her fellow Elders as they watched the holo feed from Den-neer. They quickly realized the pair had co-released as no single Eshaaru could channel that magnitude of Source photonic energy. Den-neer's Eshaar'ne recorded Source shockwaves well beyond the mountain valley above which the Eilu/Dark Ones citadel stood, though the people on the primitive world had no idea why they suddenly felt a surge of emotional wellbeing and many of their sick were cured. The release was many times greater than Archangel's psionic display on Fjai, and the physical healings revealed the female's Source filter.

The display also quieted Elder Ary's dispute that Archangel was pure Eshaaru, at least for now. Neu overpowered his arguments that Archangel's possibly contaminated DNA would be a hindrance. The genetic anomalies apparently had no affect on his ability to fully channel Source energy. First the small Fjai display and now Neu. Phai was vindicated. And even if Archangel was not genetically pure, it was proving irrelevant.

'Of more concern is his bond to Ztar, but each challenge in its time,' she told herself.

Phai smiled. Yes, the two Eshaaru had indeed strengthened from their pairing, even if that pairing was incomplete. Did they understand the extent of power they could summon if bonded? Likely not. The Eilu were doomed the moment the Eshaaru entered their lair as long as the pair responded correctly. Light devours dark. Her gamble paid off. They took Tider's strategically shared tidbits of knowledge and exploited them. Phai basked in the satisfaction of another success, yet cautioned herself that many more of the same were required to meet with ultimate triumph. Failure was untenable.

With a thought, holo images of Archangel and Ettwanae sprang up before Phai in her planning room. She elegantly circled the full-body images, her ice-blue robe flowing around long legs. Two magnificent beings obviously struggling from a lack of knowledge about their people and themselves. With the acquisition of the missing amulet nodes, they would gain more information, but the extent of that newfound knowledge had yet to be revealed. Even the great Council of Elders had no way to know what the nodes contained.

All had gone as planned – the nodes retrieved, Eshaaru faced Eilu, Emperor Ztar learned of the Dark Ones (as the uninformed called the Eilu), and he was witness to the power of the Eshaaru through his surrogate, General Gtar-Cro. Phai trusted Gtar-Cro to do what the man did best, unearth threats. At some point, through the man that was his eyes and ears, Ztar would learn of the darkness lurking all around them. Shedding light on the Dark Ones would put a face to the menace – something/someone tangible to focus upon. Well, partially tangible, Phai grimaced. His knowing the enemy would be Phai's path to Ztar's cooperation when the time came.

Achievement aside, the troubling part of Neu did not evade the Elder. Ettwanae and Archangel were within the Eilu's awareness even more prominently. She could only speculate what the Eilu had planned when they stole the memory nodes from Jandur. On the surface, it would appear to be bait for the female. A way to draw her in to destroy her. Yet Phai riled against such a simplistic explanation. There was more to it, but what? A frown forming across her deceptively delicate features, Phai decided to leave that puzzle for another day.

The Elder of Elders dismissed the images of the Eshaaru. Success on Neu was in the past; she needed to focus on strategic moves many steps into the future. Upon her mental command, the three-dimensional tracking board sprang up before her. She adjusted the position of Archangel, Ettwanae, and Ztar closer to their goal and then turned consideration to other points of light in the matrix – the Commonwealth, specifically. That knitted together federation of semi-autonomous systems needed to be unraveled.

###

Once everyone was up, Warren called a debriefing meeting over breakfast. Gatebi and Flint sat mesmerized at the blow-by-blow account of events within the citadel. Retrospect drove home just how close he and Ettwanae had come to losing their lives. If it hadn't been for the bravery of Meipa and the other Booettus…

The recap had gone well enough, but all during the meal Warren noticed Ettwanae's demeanor. Something was wrong, but she kept avoiding his inquisitive glances. At the end of the meeting, she dropped the bombshell. Her and Volu had already scanned the nodes while everyone else slept and they did not find what they'd hoped.

With a face reflecting disheartenment, she told them the nodes held no knowledge of where her people might be. He followed her eyes as they looked down at the hands locked in a tight clasp in the effort to control powerful emotions as she related they learned only that a mysterious event called the Dark Coming was likely responsible, but nothing as to what exactly that was or how it scattered her people and separated from their U'larr creators. White wings quivered as she explained there were no insights into why the Shozen hunted her kind only that they did. No reason for the U'larr's complete disappearance or what had transpired during the thousands of years following the Dark Coming.

Warren hurt for Ettwanae – for all of them. It was a major disappointment. So much risked for so few answers. But there were bright spots, Warren reminded himself – the amulet was complete and Ettwanae had gained her family history, but that fact seemed lost amid Ettwanae's pain of what was not learned.

While his heart hurt for Ettwanae, his nether region warmed as his eyes roamed over her of their own will. Libido was stirring yet again and it was putting Warren on edge. It'd been quiet for most of the past few days and he'd taken the break with gratitude considering their mission. Did Aru determine the danger had passed and decided to reawaken the incessant drive to mate? 'Not now, damn it!' he swore at the force he couldn't control. Garnering his will, he refocused on the conversation.

"But how is that possible?" Gatebi asked. "Aren't the nodes supposed to possess the history of the Eshaaru? Like a failsafe should something happen like…like what happened to Volu?"

Flint nodded with a puzzled look. "Gabby's right. I'm confused, Twae."

Ettwanae's wings drooped more. "They do, but only as much as those who created them knew. The Dark Coming happened maybe 15,000 years ago, a guess by my ancestors. At least that's what they were calling it when the memory node history begins. They believed the Dark Coming destroyed the U'larr and as a result, the galaxy fell into chaos. The nodes talk of Eshaaru and Eshaar'ne that my ancestors met and then never saw again, but they could add little to fill in the gap. Those meetings were few and far between – sometimes my ancestors would go hundreds of years before seeing or contacting other Eshaaru." Ettwanae shook her head disbelievingly. "It's hard to accept no one knew what happened…that the nodes don't tell us the fate of my people." Ettwanae was on the verge of tears.

"I'm sorry, Ettwanae," he offered with a tender look. What he really wanted was to offer a comforting embrace, but Aru's insistence was already growing, putting physical contact out of the question. The best he could do was keep Ettwanae focused on relating what she'd learn. "So when the Dark Coming happened, everything fell apart?"

She nodded, grasping the amulet to stare at it. "Both my ancestors and Volu's believed the void in history was the direct result of the U'larr civilization collapsing, which caused our peoples to be scattered. Some felt most of the U'larr and Eshaaru died during the Dark Coming, and those that remained were more focused on survival than recording history. Others believed our people left this sector of space and a few stayed behind to watch over Etxan'Ir. No one really knew. Between the Dark Coming and about 8,000 years ago is a lost time."

"What about the library? Did you learn anything more?"

"Not much, except that some of my ancestors were gathers. When this history node was created," Ettwanae pointed to the ruby red node, "my ancestors – D'Orito and D'Ousar – had ceased gathering, but their children started up again." She turned and tilted the amulet causing the gemstone-like nodes to catch and reflect light. They were stunning in their brilliance. "This magenta stone – that holds my lineage. And you all know that amethyst one is my parent's history," she noted pointing to the node at the bottom point of the equilateral triangle. Each point held a node. She rubbed a thumb over the crimson crystal in the center of the triangle, black lowlights twinkling. "This center node, this will be what connects and leads us to Etxan'Ir…if I become soulbound," she said quietly to no one in particular.

A pang hit Warren hard. His bond with Ztar was the reason for the impossibility. If only that night hadn't happened. If only Mon Genesis bombing hadn't occurred. If only… Then he pulled himself out of the trap that would get them nowhere. "Where do the Shozen come in?" Warren abruptly changed the subject.

Ettwanae's wings jerked slightly and she lifted her eyes to meet his. He read "sorry" in them. "The Shozen were hunting our people and greatly feared already 8,000 years ago. Why they did so, no one knew. Some speculated they had something to do with the fall of the U'larr."

Flint clenched a fist and looked angry. "Your people was already sufferin' and they decided to wipe ya out? _Bastards!_"

Warren leaned toward Ettwanae to ask another question when Aru fully woke. 'Shit!' He jolted as libido suddenly ratcheted up. Clenching a fist, he dug nails into flesh to maintain control. "What's the bottom line in all this? What have we gained by acquiring the nodes?" Racial and family histories were wonderful to have, but they needed something more to work with than genealogy.

Volu spoke before Ettwanae could answer. "We have a completed amulet, Warren. That alone is crucial for without, nothing else can be accomplished."

"But it's not activated…not without Ettwanae being bound." Demands to bed Ettwanae were quickly making him ornery, which in turn magnified frustrations over the seemingly endless roadblocks and dead-ends.

"It is not _fully_ activated, Warren – there is a difference. It may be enough to allow us access to Etxan'Ir when we find it."

"But because she not bound, the amulet won't us lead there," Gatebi stated the obvious.

"You understand correctly."

Flint looked hopeful. "But since it's complete, it'll get us inside?"

"That is the theory."

"Only a _theory_, Volu?" Warren pressed, agitation growing quickly as sexual urges chafed and gnawed his insides.

Ettwanae let out an exasperated sigh and jumped in ahead of her Eshaar'ne. "Yes, Warren. Volu and I gave this much thought and we believe there is enough hinted at in the old knowledge to support the idea."

"So now all we gotta do is find the mega library. Piece of cake," the teen inserted with biting sarcasm. Tensions were quickly escalating in the small galley.

"And you didn't think it important enough to tell me it was only a theory?" Warren accused. Need continued to build. His body was priming itself and discomfort growing. 'Damn it, Aru – leave me alone!' he snarled silently.

"Perhaps you should visit Tider again – we are heading back to Tchutchka Centrus anyway," the Alcab suggested as she brushed back her short, orange hair with a huff of irritation. Warren had overhead her tell Ettwanae she needed to get it cut as long hair on Alcabs wasn't a desirable condition. The thick, unruly mane that was the norm for the species was best kept under control by a short crop. Apparently, it was a target for redirected annoyance.

Warren knew they would likely not be welcomed in the broker's presence for quite some time. He assumed Tchut authorities as well as MI had interrogated the man and maybe more than once. It might be better to let some time pass before visiting again, but the others didn't know that, of course. "We're going to avoid Tider, at least for now – his information is expensive."

Ettwanae shot Warren a puzzled look. "But what other options do we have? We have the LinCreds card – we can pay him this time. Gatebi told me there's plenty of credits…"

Warren shook his head at Ettwanae. "I'm holding Tider in reserve." The words came out sterner than he meant.

"Shouldn't we _all_ be in on that decision?" Flint snapped.

"My LinCreds and I'm in charge. My decision." As soon as he said it, Warren knew it was a big mistake. Metaphoric daggers flew his way. 'Time to back peddle and get control, War. You're setting everyone off,' he ordered himself. "Sorry, you're right Flint. But let's make certain we haven't missed other clues that could lead the way first. I don't like the idea of relying on Tider – we don't know his allegiances."

"Warren is wise to be wary of Tider," Volu rallied behind Warren's argument. "I am uncomfortable with him knowing our path."

Warren was grateful Volu backed him up. He studied the others as they considered the reasoning. The reaction was mixed.

"That _seems_ like a sensible precaution," Gatebi finally spoke in hesitant agreement. Ettwanae still looked unconvinced.

Suspicion crossed Flint's face, however. "_Why_ is it we're going to Tchut again?"

Crossing his arms to reinforce his words, Warren looked his fellow Human straight in the eyes. "That is Royal Court business and unfortunately, I'm not allowed to explain further."

"Just seems rather odd that your Royal Court business takes us back to the planet where you and Twae nearly got nabbed." Flint narrowed his eyes. "_I _think it's got somethin' to do with that."

Ettwanae was suddenly extremely alert and watching Warren intently. He growled internally. 'Won't play this game.' He rose from the table and headed to where he'd stowed the Dison they acquired on Thael. Maybe alcohol would help subdue the irritability and libido. "We need a destination after Tchut," he redirected as he pulled a glass and the bottle from the galley compartment. "Was there anything in the nodes to tell us where that might be? At least a direction to head?"

"I have thoroughly scanned the nodes and they are devoid of references to Etxan'Ir's location. That is not unexpected as it is the code by which Eshaaru and Eshaar'ne live – the location is never to be revealed and is protected above all else."

As soon as the amber liqueur hit the glass, its aroma enticed him in. Dison was the best liqueur Warren ever experienced – sweet, fiery, and incredibly smooth. Even before returning to the table, he savored a sip, inhaling the delicious scent and warm memories held within. Reseated, Warren considered Volu's reply. Regrettably, it only added to his steadily increasing tetchiness.

"Why bother building a vast library if no one is to ever use it? That's pointless." The words came out harsh.

"I asked the same question when I first met Ettwanae," Gatebi jumped in. "The U'larr intended the library as a knowledge preservation vessel. According to Volu's racial and transferred memories, the U'larr intended to one day select an inheritor or inheritors of the library – a race wise enough to receive the gift."

"Apparently, they didn't find anyone worthy of their athenaeum before everything went to hell," he snipped with cynicism. "With the U'larr gone, who decides? The Eshaaru and Eshaar'ne?" Another sip of Dison did nothing to soothe raw nerves or subdue Aru. Physical discomfort was almost beyond the tolerable.

"It is not our place," Volu said with a touch of consternation.

That did it. Anger and frustration exploded. "Then what the _hell_ is the purpose?" he demanded slamming a fist to the table. "Why spend lifetimes filling up a library that no one will ever use? To what end?"

He jerked at the sound of his own ire. 'Shit, Worthington, pull yourself together!' He quickly reined himself in, taking a deep breath and releasing slowly, silently. 'Easy, flyboy…'

Ettwanae blinked back tears and her lip trembled. "I- I think it's time for me to leave the room," Ettwanae announced and stood, but hesitated with a weary eye to Warren.

'God, War, you're such a jerk sometimes!' He set the Dison down sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Ettwanae. My mood isn't the best, but I shouldn't be snapping at everyone. Please stay."

Ettwanae became emboldened and her expression turned to disapproval. "Aru is affecting me as well, Warren. We are all frustrated with the lack of information and the barriers that keep jumping up. The rest of us have been dealing with that problem much longer than you. If we allow frustration to determine how we treat each other, we will not survive. We must act and speak with kindness and understanding or we become our own enemy."

Anger instantly coiled around Warren like a viper. 'How dare you dress me down!' came the silent, knee-jerk response. But just as quickly, he realized she spoke the truth. He was the one letting emotions and pride get out of hand.

"You are absolutely right, Ettwanae. Sorry, everyone," he apologized with a quick glance to his three shipmates. "I _am_ frustrated and Aru is making me even crankier. I can control it…I just didn't want to quite enough." Then he held Ettwanae's gaze. "Please stay. I promise to be a good boy," he pleaded with this best boyish grin.

Her eyes darkened and the wings quivered. With a sigh, she returned to her seat. "Very well."

Flint snickered and leaned toward Warren. "What I warn ya about? They're a handful," Flint ribbed, pointing his thumb at the women.

That got the teen a friendly cuff to the shoulder by Ettwanae. The teen flashed a grin that told everyone he'd gotten exactly the reaction he'd hope. The shenanigans helped further deflate tensions. To Warren's amazed relief, libido suddenly eased up as well.

"Okay, then. We still need a destination after Tchut. No clues in the nodes. Do we have anything else?" As the question left his mouth, he remembered something. "What about that display of the galaxy in the citadel? It highlighted a star – just one out of billions."

Ettwanae eyes brightened instantly. "Yes! Do you think we should try to find that system?"

"Could be their base of operation or homeworld and nothing to do with what we're looking for," he cautioned, but Warren's instincts nudged it was an important clue.

"Hell, if those bastards picked out a single star in all the galaxy in the same room as the nodes, I'd go out on a limb and say they was connected!" Flint added with his usual flare.

Gatebi leaned in, elbows on the table. "I agree with Flint. Logic says there is a connection."

Flint put on a dramatically stunned expression. "On my God, Gatebi Eudara _agrees_ with Flint Lanic! Anyone else feel a sudden chill? Down low maybe?" he asked pointing toward the floor.

Warren smirked, even more so at the pained expression on Gatebi and Ettwanae's perplexed face. The subtle reference was lost on the non-Humans.

"I can recreate the Dark One's display."

Warren nodded at Volu's offer. "Hopefully, we can remember enough to pinpoint the system. We have plenty of time between now and Tchut to figure it out." Warren rested his arms on the table and smiled at the trio. "There is a little something we need do first," he said reaching for the Dison bottle. "Flint, would you get three more glasses like mine?" Surprise raised Flint's eyebrows. "It's time to celebrate," Warren answered the question he didn't give Flint time to ask. "Neu was a victory – we should have a little party."

Flint gave him a huge grin and nearly leapt from the table to retrieve glasses.

"We should – definitely!" Ettwanae threw in hearty agreement.

"Yeah, if War's sharing his precious Dison, it's serious party time!" Flint threw over his shoulder as he pulled glasses from a compartment.

"Then let the victory celebration begin!" Warren declared. The change of mood in the room was swift. Even Aru seemed to bow out in respect for their triumph.

Warren looked at each of his fellow questants as he filled their glasses. "Our mission was to steal back the memory nodes. We did. We made it out alive. The Dark Ones were destroyed. We freed the Booettus. And best of all," he paused, setting down the empty bottle, "Ettwanae has regained her much of her past. We accomplished all we set out to do and more. Team – we should be proud of that. Salute!" Warren raised his glass.

Flint immediately followed suit. "Cheers to us!" Ettwanae and Gatebi mimicked, not knowing the tradition, but going along. Four glasses raised. "Now we bring our glasses together," Flint instructed the women. Four glasses clinked. "And now we _drink_!" Four friends drank to their victory. Warren smiled broadly looking over the top of his glass to meet Ettwanae's eyes. The smile returned made all the peril and frustrations worthwhile.

And so they moved the merriment to the coziness of the gathering room and drank, laughed, ate treat foods, shared funny tales of adventure, attempted jokes that often fell on uncomprehending ears, which in itself caused more laughter, and listened to Flint's idea of good music off his iPod that Volu channeled through her aural orifices. Flint and Ettwanae took to the Dison at first sip, but Gatebi warmed to its seductive sweet-fire more slowly. Soon, she and Flint were feeling the intoxicating affects, while Warren and Ettwanae's metabolisms prevented inebriation, but not the soothing affects. Fears, threats, and disappointments were forgotten for a few hours.

As the little party wound down, Warren sat back observed his team appreciatively. He was proud of what they'd accomplished in so little time. And he was growing attached. Flint with his cocky attitude and boyish enthusiasm. Counterbalancing Flint was Gatebi – serious, reserved, in control. His eyes roamed to Ettwanae and his heart warmed. Trusting, loyal, heart on her sleeve, and innocent in many ways. Where he'd seen too much, she'd seen perhaps too little. Had Bhenra, her beloved adopted father, over protected her? While brave, it was becoming increasingly obvious Ettwanae was ill-equipped for the quest before them. Two years she'd searched for the nodes and failed. Warren met with success in less than 40 imperial days. The group needed his experience and his willingness to use threats, force, and take potentially fatal risks.

Thoughts flowed to the one who had no face – Volu. Warren was uncertain of her feelings toward him. Some days, he sensed she liked him and wanted him to be a long-term addition, but other days the distrust leaked through. He deserved the mistrust, he granted, from her perspective. And he'd never forget that Volu would do whatever was necessary to protect and defend Ettwanae, even to the point of killing – the Eshaar'ne had made that abundantly clear.

But even those thoughts couldn't dampen his spirits as he watched the others celebrate victory over the Dark Ones to come away with the prize. The amulet was complete. The challenge now was fully activating it. He and Ettwanae needed to bond. If they could not, finding Etxan'Ir may be impossible. Warren had faced the impossible before – it didn't stop him then and he'd be damned if he'd allow himself to feel defeated already. No, they'd keep trying…keep looking for clues and test the Ura barrier.

He and Ettwanae had decided to try again after Neu. It was now after Neu.

She turned those incredible, crystalline-blue eyes to his, perhaps sensing him watching, and shared a smile that lit up the room. The blue orbs reflected her emotions even more than the smile – caring, longing, maybe even admiration. Then Flint yanked feathers and she snapped her attention back to his playfulness, jabbing him with lightening speed in the ribs. Warren watched the loving smile morph into a mischievous grin, how her golden hair swirled, how the wings spread slightly as she leaned towards her teaser. Ettwanae was breathtaking. 'God, I want you,' he told her without speaking. 'I don't love you…not yet, but I'm pretty certain I want to.'

Yes, they would try again to bond, and he privately vowed to make the attempt as blissful for her as he was capable.

###

Ztar's jaw had literally dropped when he'd watched the recording from Neu. Of course, he cautioned himself not to jump to conclusions about the energy release, but Gtar-Cro confirmed it was lifeforce energy, something normally detected only in small amounts within living beings. To determine whether it was the same energy Archangel released at Fjai would require comparative analysis, but Ztar would bet his throne it was. The golden glow at Fjai was burned into memory. Though only a fraction of the Neu intensity, the color spectrum was the same – a very distinctive golden hue.

The question was, had Archangel alone manifested the mind-boggling surge of power or was the Esserru he traveled with responsible? Or had they manifested together? Legend spoke of golden glowing Esserru, but those tales usually involved healings and Ztar knew of no writings of energy releases even remotely at the Neu level. 'Doesn't mean Esserru weren't capable,' he hedged. 'Only that nothing like it was recorded by the ancient Turzents that had survived to present day.'

Ztar had ordered all data concerning Neu be sent to him and all other copies erased. Gtar-Cro agreed that certain things about the Human must remain classified. With the Etagllot already hunting Archangel, the Neu data Ztar would keep to himself. That was step one.

The Emperor made another decision. Though he'd received no confirmation from Archangel as to his next destination, Ztar acted on faith the man would keep his word. Comming Captain Yels personally, he provided Mi-Lartui's travel coordinates. To make the rendezvous, Yels would need to push Mi-Lartui to her limit and beyond. Heading out his office, he telepathed Cronit Lar to prepare his private shuttle for immediate departure. There was not a minute to spare.

###

Disappointment stung that the nodes did not answer her most fundamental questions, but completing the amulet _was_ a major accomplishment, Ettwanae reminded herself. Hope was not lost, but shifted more heavily to the legendary Library of All Knowledge. Bonding to fully awakened the amulet took on even greater importance. If that could be forced, then finding Etxan'Ir would be assured. Perhaps if she prayed to Ozshi'wanae enough, the goddess would grant a miracle.

It was time to try again. She asked and he had said yes, upholding their earlier decision to attempt to force the soulbinding. She knew his agreement leaned toward the pragmatic. It didn't matter. What mattered was that her intended was lying beneath her.

Since meeting Warren, she'd come close to losing him twice. The Etagllot nearly captured him. The Dark Ones almost killed him. And there was the attack in the alley. But he was safe now within the protective cocoon of her Other as Volu sped through space toward Tchutchka Centrus. She wanted to hold him tightly, treasure that he was still with her, to love him…feel him inside her. She wanted to unite physically and chase away the remnant fears of near loss. Most of all, Ettwanae simply wanted to make love to the man that had taken possession of her heart at first sight.

She'd suggested being on top, that perhaps it gave them a better chance of completing the act. He'd looked dubious, but submitted to her wishes. As she looked down upon Warren, the sight took her breath away. He was nude perfection. Flawless, stunning, blue eyes darkened with wanting, just as every fiber of her being ached for him and her soul yearned to meld with his.

So far, no pain – only intoxicating desire. Ettwanae drank in his smell; melted into the feel of his warm skin; sank into the sensuality of the feathers spread across the bed. As she massaged the most sensitive wing points, he moaned needfully and splayed them even wider, inviting more of the same. She accommodated, combing through the long flight feathers; the resultant shivers through his torso further fanning fiery passion. His eyes were closed, the sensual lips formed a smile, and his face nearly glowed in bliss.

Ettwanae leaned down and danced breasts tantalizingly against the muscular chest as she kissed his forehead, eyes, and cheeks. Her own moans of delight escaped when strong hands captured and skillfully massaged her breasts. That was only a precursor to the delicious waves of sexual fire that ran to her groin when he took one mound into his mouth, twirling his tongue around the nipple. She nearly collapsed upon him in her ecstasy.

Releasing her, Warren placed a kiss between the breasts, and continued kissing his way up her chest and neck to an ear lobe. Then hungrily, his mouth devoured hers, probing deeply. Tongues performed their sensual dance, almost desperate for all the wonders to be explored within. Ettwanae was lost to it. His kiss was bliss. She could kiss him forever and never tire. All too soon, he pulled back, nipped at her lips, chin, and nose before entwining his fingers into her hair and, to her extreme delight, drawing her in for another smoldering exploration of her mouth. At the same time, other fingers tantalized the base of her wing, working their way in exquisite slowness to just the perfect spot and then… "Ooo-hhh, goddess!" She shuddered as heat raced from wing to groin in a delirious flow that nearly sent her to orgasm.

Then gently, he maneuvered her lower on his body. She understood he was signaling they needed to move things along, not risk too much foreplay before attempting the bonding. Ettwanae was close to tears that they could not prolong the wonder, but that would be a luxury reserved for after they had bonded.

Warren was hard against her inner thigh – so close to where things needed to go. 'Just a little more preparation,' she felt as she rubbed against his shaft and he groaned. He grabbed her upper arms as she massaged the erection just enough but not too much, making certain Warren was at the brink. He moaned and gasped his pleasure. That she could bring him such physical delight filled Ettwanae with so much joy she felt she might explode.

Then joy began morphing into something more primal. It coiled around her brain and ensnared her body with a swiftness that made her inhale sharply. 'Take him!' it demanded and Ettwanae shuddered. 'Aru!' she realized, struggling to resist the tidal wave of raw lust. She nearly surrendered, nearly allowed herself to be swept away. Volu's warnings echoed in her head. She'd not risk Warren through unbridled instinct. 'Must stay in control. Must!'

Warren's body tightened and his movements became less fluid. Looking down at his face, she read the conflict there. He was fighting Aru as well. 'Do this now while we're still in control!' she told herself.

Then as if it had been lying in wait for that decision, tendrils of liquid fire curled themselves first in the center of her abdomen, then snaking out. But that wasn't the worst of it. A pain where no physical body existed burned like lava. Warren's body snapped tight and he sucked in a breath in unison with hers.

He was still erect despite the pain. 'Move fast,' she told herself, gritting her teeth. 'Stay ahead of it.' Quickly, she positioned her quaking body to take him in before she could endure no more. Just as his shaft touched her there, the soul pain joined with the physical in a searing detonation. She was paralyzed as her very essence burned alive. A scream she could not suppress joined his and pierced her chambers. Throwing herself off him, Ettwanae curled into a ball against the hellish agony.

They lay juddering, a whimper or groan escaping here and there, waiting for the pain to wane. She wanted to cry, but did not. Ettwanae would be brave for him. The rejection was more intense than the first time. Was Ura punishing them for attempting to defy its harsh sentence? Would each try become worse? Ettwanae could not imagine pain greater than they had just experienced.

Opening her eyes, Warren was curled likewise on his side, facing her, eyes squeezed shut. Sweat glistened on his skin and distress etched the perfect features, contorting them into a contrasting blend of handsome anguish. Then she notice – he was so still. Fear gripped instantly and her eyes searched for signs of life. Relief flooded her as his chest rose and fell almost imperceptibly.

Then his eyelids sprung open perhaps having sensed her alarm. Blue locked on blue, exchanging hurt and disappointment wordlessly. They lay there quietly, afraid to touch, as the unseen fire consuming body and soul became a dying ember. After the worst had passed, a chill that went beyond the physical sunk in and she shuddered. Warren reached out and pulled her in. A subtle tremor ran the length of him. Risking more punishment, they nestled tighter for warmth, foreheads pressed together, hands, legs, and wings defiantly entwined.

"I am so sorry," she whispered from beneath their co-formed feathery cocoon. She moved a wing against his in a tender brush. The will to be brave was slipping. Tears formed and left tracings down her face as they found the bed. His still trembling hand stroked her hair soothingly.

"Don't apologize."

Warren sounded so tired. She thought back over the past several weeks. Everything he had gone through since meeting her – the pain of unfulfilled longing, the agony of their bonding attempts, the narrow escapes – her fault. Her guilt. He'd be happy and safe on his homeworld if not for her. She was hurting the man she loved. Tears flowed more quickly as despair began to take hold.

His hand cupped her cheek and he wiped a tear away with his thumb. "Please don't cry, Ettwanae. We should not try anymore if this is too painful for you. We'll find Etxan'Ir another way."

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for the words to come. "Y-you should return home. This- this was a terrible mistake. Ura won't be fooled. We can never be bound. We'll never find Etxan'Ir. I w-won't be selfish and continue to put you in danger or watch you live as we have – the constant craving. It's too much!"

He heart pounded. She did not want to lose him, but she would to protect him. Watching his face, she searched for clues to his thoughts. The crystalline-blue eyes blinked in surprise, then softened. He pushed back gently and maneuvered them into sitting up. She didn't speak – couldn't; her throat was too tight. Fear chilled her to the core that he'd agree, despite knowing it was for the best.

His gaze locked onto her as his hands firmly gripped her upper arms. "First, I'm not going anywhere. I won't give up that easily – not on finding Etxan'Ir, a cure for the nannites, or your people. I'm too stubborn to stop just as we've gotten started. Second, I'm not giving up on us. I'm willing to keep trying to bond. I can handle it, but only if you want to as well. Maybe we just have to find the right method – be faster than Ura. Third, if you are feeling responsible for any of the shit that's happened, listen to me, Ettwanae," he said firmly, squeezing her arms. She dropped her eyes and began to protest, but he cut her off. "Please look at me, Ettwanae." He waited. "Please?" She raised her eyes to his. "_I_ chose to go on this mission knowing the galaxy is a dangerous place – that enemies are looking for both of us. _I_ chose to stay when the first bonding failed and we learned what we'd be facing. I know full well that the search is a long shot and I chose – and still choose – to challenge those odds. You did not make those decisions for me. Feeling scared, concerned, angry…that's to be expected. Heck, nearly dying in the citadel scared the hell out of me, too. But don't you _dare_ feel guilty or to blame, do you hear me?"

His hands dropped from her arms to grasp her hands. "Each day, you're becoming more important to me – more a part of me. Coming so close to losing you in the citadel helped me realize that. So, you're stuck with me." Then he smiled his wonderful smile. "Besides," he released a hand and tweaked her nose. "Where would I find someone as cute as you to bum around the galaxy with?"

That made her laugh just a little. "You are certain you want to go through with this? It won't get any easier – none of it," she asked again, just to be certain he was sure.

"Yes. I'm going to see this through to the end – whatever that end may be. But if you ever feel you want to stop the search and find a safe place to simply live life, we stop. I will not push you into continuing. Agreed?"

She sniffed and nodded. A quick peck on her forehead sealed the deal. How quickly he could change her mood. Just a few words of encouragement and she been pulled from the edge of despair. Ettwanae placed a hand on his cheek and gazed deeply into the face she could get lost within. "I do love you, Warren. I'm not afraid to say it if you're not afraid to hear it." Something passed behind the blue eyes – a flicker that told her he was not yet ready to say the same. "I'll wait for you to catch up." She put on a lopsided grin. "I've heard it said that males are a little slower in figuring out their emotions than females and we women must be patient with them."

"Ha!" he scoffed, but the eyes were twinkling. "Do I hear an air of superiority?"

Resolve was growing within her once more. He had become her strength and her anchor. "Could be, Warren Worthington the Third, overseer of Worthington Industries, known also as an X-man _and_ as Archangel of the Royal Court of Ztar. Sitting naked with all those titles leaves me feeling a touch inferior. I'm simply pointing out where _I_ may have the upper hand."

He laughed deeply and her heart swelled with the sound. Playfulness swept her up with lightening speed. 'Ura be damned!' she declared silently with surprising spunk and she marveled again that Warren could do that for her. With a sly grin, she pushed him backward into the pillows, pressing her naked body down on his. "Speaking of hands…" she drew his hand up and kissed it, "and mouths…" she placed a kiss on his lips, "and other body parts," she nipped his ear, "maybe we can do other things – things Ura doesn't object to…" she said salaciously, brushing her nose on his, then teasing his lips.

"Oh, you _are_ wicked! Testing the limits?" he chuckled. Warren didn't appear to mind the possibility, as she drew her foot sensually up his leg.

"Hmmm, could be. Let's see how far we can go. Are you brave enough?" she taunted, wondering just far too far would be.

And so they began again, tightly controlling the mating drives – the effort was both exhausting and gratifying. Fear of losing control and of the pain helped them walk the very fine line. All too soon, the need in their groins became too uncomfortable. When they stopped, she refused to let him out of the bed despite the pulsating ache to complete the act. But libidos would not be quieted and so eventually, he left to return to his quarters. The physical relief at separation was instantaneous. They'd pushed the limits and captured some fleeting pleasure. She'd take that if it were all she could have. As sleep came, Ettwanae was smiling.

###

The Eshaar'ne had remained silent when her Other's scream sliced to the core. The pair's bio-signs, though erratic, were within acceptable parameters. This was Ettwanae and Warren's shared pain. She would not inject herself unless Ettwanae was physically or mentally endangered. There were certain matters in which an Eshaar'ne does not meddle; what happens intimately between mates being first and foremost. Despite Ettwanae and Warren not being soulbound, Volu would honor the sanctity of the bedchamber.

Fear of losing her Other nearly caused Volu to dephase when she realized the two were about to attempt First Mating. Would they lose all control to Aru and fail to stop despite Ura's soul-searing rejection and be mortally wounded as a result? That was the ultimate risk. For a moment, she regretted telling Ettwanae to try. So much easier to agree bravely to something abstract than to be facing the potential consequences in reality. She almost stopped them. Almost. Soulbound intimacy is sacred and shall not be violated…that is what the old memory/knowledge instructed. Not even by an Eshaaru's Other.

And so, Volu gave her Other privacy, maintaining only the slightest sensor vigilance for signs of physical distress. Then the united scream of failure shattered the hallowed chambers, and she hurt for her beloved Poda. If Volu could have cried, tears would have fallen. Determined to uphold the law of non-interference in intimate matters, Volu did not intrude, though she desperately longed to comfort. It was not her place; that right – duty – was Warren's. But later, should Ettwanae wish to talk, Volu would listen tenderly, provide support, and ultimately, ease Ettwanae gently back toward Warren despite reservations about the man.

###

Warren trudged to his room exhausted. Trying to enjoy intimacy while fighting off instinctual drives pushing you forward while holding back in fear of blinding pain took its toll. He doubted it was something he and Ettwanae would indulge in on a regular basis. But he felt more than simple fatigue. He felt…weird, for lack of a better term. It had started halfway through foreplay round two. Like a pulling or pushing or something in his head…mind…somewhere. 'A stretching?' No, that wasn't it either. He crawled into bed as Aru continued to complain about the unfulfilled act. Staring at the door, part of him was still with Ettwanae, her body curled into his in a perfect fit. 'God, I want her!' The thought only encouraged Aru and he quickly squelched erotic images.

Stretched out on his stomach, he sank into the softness of the mattress, expelling a deep sigh into the pillow. Lifting feathery limbs, he let them to fall gently back to the bed, willing his body to abandon sexual tension. The effort was somewhat successful. He repeated the exercise, splaying the wings as far as possible in the small room. As they floated down, he focused on sensing tiny air currents, the feel as feathers brushed down Volu's walls, and he exhaled long and slowly.

'Pressure.' He had the right word. Something pressed on something else somewhere in his head or awareness...it was impossible to pin down. 'Aru longings and stress taking their toll?' he wondered as weariness dulled thinking. Then slumber engulfed him.

###

_A/N: Next chapter is shorter and the last one before the Tchutchka Centrus arrival. Hopefully, I can finish the pre-post editing quickly so we can get on to that second story arc. _


	35. Chapter 34

_A/N: C34 takes place during the 10-day trip back to Tchutchka Centrus. It turned out a bit longer than originally planned. I realized there was a whole section that fit better in this chapter. So, after moving things around and some tweaking, you get several more pages than otherwise would have been the case. _

_Hope you enjoy._

**Chapter 34**

Today was not a good day for Director Sident. Prime Director Phai informed him a section of his staff would be disavowed. That was a sanitized way of saying they were being sacrificed for some high-level maneuverings he was not privy to. What were they thinking? A critical unit of his bio-tech staff thrown to Ztar's rueger-derr named Gtar-Cro. The man was like the famed predator that rarely lost the scent. Relentless in pursuit of its prey, the single-minded rueger-derr sometimes stayed on the trail to the point of dying from lack of food or water rather than give up the hunt. Gtar-Cro had been on a mission of vengeance against the Etagllot well over a year, slowly eroding resources and personnel. It was 20 years ago all over again.

And now the organization Sident had given his life to was tossing Gtar-Cro a bone – quite a large, juicy bone, he thought with some bitterness. He was allowed one victory in an otherwise lost battle to save the ill-fated unit – Head Researcher Hercjell al'Verta. She, two key assistants, and the project files would be evacuated before imperial troops arrived to sweep the facility. Phai did share counterfeit data would be left for Gtar-Cro to dig up. Whatever precipitated the sacrifice would be mitigated by the gains resulting from the planted misinformation. The Director had a difficult time imagining what would be so valuable as to justify the loss.

"Is the current project to be continued at a new location?" he wanted to know.

The holographic projection of the Prime Director upturned its slender hand in the affirmative. "Yes, Director, the project is too important to discard. Data concerning the project relocation has been transmitted to your PI."

"And the test subject?"

"The Human will be allowed to fall into imperial hands. The energy manifested is similar, but not precisely what is needed."

That wasn't what he wanted to hear. "It was serving the purpose. Without the Human, the project could stall further."

The holo image approached his desk with a regal air of superiority and gazed down with stunningly blue eyes. "Trust, Director, that the requirements of your project will be met. The work has advanced to the point where the Human is no longer of use. A new subject will be provided…you will find it to be _more_ than adequate." One corner of Phai's mouth upturned ever so slightly.

Her vagueness was nothing new and he set aside further immaterial objections. The highest levels of their organization would do as they saw fit. Sident lived his entire professional life under that reality. However, Phai did toss him tidbit to ease the blow – the unit's sacrifice would somehow result in saving a significant component of the Omnipotent Project, which the Prime Director knew was his private infatuation. That did pique his interest.

"I will ensure you receive the appropriate reports as usual. Know that your people are not lost in vain. Their sacrifice will ensure Omnipotent's continuation."

More than that, she did not reveal before ending the comm, leaving Sident only with his anticipation of the promised dockets. He was not naïve enough to believe what he saw was uncensored, but Phai had always made certain he received enough to keep up on the generalities. For that, he was thankful. It was a favor bestowed upon him for reasons known only to the Prime Director. He would not question, only accept gratefully.

With no recourse to save Hercjell's current team, he turned his attention to assembling a new unit. Bringing up the project files on his PI, he scanned Hercjell's assignment, simply called Project 1165. The research was an offshoot of the data gathered by the ill-fated Ymoz team Hercjell led to unravel the workings of the bionites hosted by the Human commonly known as Archangel. That aspect of the project failed, but they had garnered a large amount of data on the Human, including analysis of his lifeforce pattern and its anomalous nature.

Ymoz data was augmented with what was learned by Fjai Medical Research Station of Archangel's lifeforce energy manifestation. Those researchers had also collected in-depth genetic information in their attempt to explain how the man had survived a full-blown case of Wynnar-Qxani Disease, deadly to 99.99% of those actively infected. Etagllot researchers studied the files obtained from Fjai and concluded as that facility's scientists had…it could not be determine what had saved Archangel from the virus – the bionites he hosted, the manifested energy, a combination thereof, or something else entirely. Unfortunately, Archangel was withdrawn from the study before those answers could be discovered. Sident silently cursed the Emperor for that interference.

On a more positive note, Fjai's head researcher, Damymours'de, suggested that Archangel's genetic and lifeforce profile was astonishingly similar to an Etagllot study subject from many years ago that was declared an Eshaaru at the time. Now _that_ was fascinating on two counts – how it dovetailed into Project Omnipotent and added to the argument that Archangel was Eshaaru. Yet the final proof was not in hand – Archangel's DNA still read as Earth origin. It was incredibly frustrating. Archangel looked like an Eshaaru, he manifested energy like an Eshaaru, the Emperor's intimate, long-term exposure to Archangel and subsequent personality metamorphosis was hallmark Eshaaru if one believed the legends, but still no undeniable proof. The DNA records of the declared Eshaaru from years back were lost and thus could not be compared to Archangel's.

For all he knew, the Eshaaru from 20-some years ago may have also scanned as Human. Did anyone know with certainty all the ingredients in the genetic soup the U'larr used to create the winged race? They certainly looked amazingly Human. From all he'd read, no one even knew how long the manufactured species had existed. Some calculated roughly 20,000 years – others speculated well over 50,000. These questions and more could be answered if Etxan'Ir were ever found. That was the goal of Omnipotent – find the legendary Library of All Knowledge.

With a sigh, Sident set aside thoughts of Eshaaru and Etxan'Ir to refocus on routine matters. Project 1165 combined bionite technology and lifeforce research with the goal of developing bionites that could manifest lifeforce on command. They were getting close. Hercjell's team of geneticists and bio-tech specialists had made great progress. Now because powers above him determined for some unimaginable reason her team must be sacrificed for Omnipotent, they were losing valuable talent.

He had much work ahead to identify new team members. Staffing resources were stretched extremely thin because of Ztar's persecution through his highly effective intelligence arm. But the Etagllot organization spanned far beyond the Turzent Empire. Their resources were deep; likely far vaster than Sident knew. Not once in his long tenure had they denied him a justifiable resource – either staff or materials.

And so he began his resource request, starting with Hercjell at the top with "acquired" annotated beside her name.

###

It had been a long nine days since Neu. Ettwanae had busied herself with viewing the memory nodes and trying unsuccessfully to weasel more information out of Warren and Volu about the return to Tchutchka. Gatebi spent much of her time reading, as usual. Flint played his computer games and nursed aches and bruises from the continuing self-defense lessons. Warren did his best not to think about how small the ship was and the resurrection of Aru's prodding and poking after his and Ettwanae's attempt to bond after Neu. That little experiment had thrown gasoline on the fire. They were back to Warren spending a good share of the time in the far corner of the cargo hold.

The most interesting event was when he, Ettwanae, and Volu recreated the depiction of the galaxy in the Dark Ones' citadel.

"That's still not quite right, Volu. Tilt the galaxy just a bit more," Ettwanae instructed, using her hand to illustrate the angle. The holographic Milky Way on Volu's bridge moved accordingly. "Now slide the light to my left just a little…a touch more…there!" Her eyes shot to Warren's. "Does that look right to you?"

He scrutinized the display, but couldn't be sure. "I didn't exactly memorize what we saw, but it's close, I think."

Ettwanae pointed to a single star. "Volu, make this one blue." The holo-star turned sapphire. "That's the one…I think…maybe." She placed her hands on her hips and turned again to Warren. "Do you agree?"

He shook his head wishing he'd paid more attention in the citadel, but then again, other things were more pressing at the time. "I can't be sure. I remember it being an isolated star and you saying it was at the fringe of the Commonwealth."

The Eshaaru nodded, her golden locks almost bouncing with enthusiasm. Warren clenched fists against the urges that small gesture stirred up. Was it him or was the bridge getting warmer?

Ettwanae peered closely at the star, her face and body dotted with the holographic stars of Orion's Arm. "What star is that?"

"The Commonwealth calls it Atmos. According to my navigational records, a single planet orbits the star…Atmos Prime."

"Inhabited?" Warren asked.

"If you give me a moment..." Many seconds passed in silence. Suddenly, series of images popped into the air of a dry and desolate planet. "These are pictures of Atmos Prime. Both the Turzent and Commonwealth comnets classify the planet as uninhabited. In fact, the Commonwealth has put the world on its Protected Archeological Sites list and travel there is by permit only."

"The whole _planet_ is protected?" Ettwanae asked, surprise evident.

"Apparently."

Warren looked to Ettwanae. "Is that unusual?"

She cocked her head. "From what I learned from Baumpa, yes. Sites of ruins or other archeological relics can gain that status, but I never heard him say a whole planet could be a classified a protected site. But maybe the Commonwealth does things differently, especially if the planet is unoccupied."

"No, you are correct, Ettwanae. This is an exception even for the Commonwealth. I have reviewed their published list of protected sites and Atmos Prime is the only planet so classified."

Warren drew closer to the holographic Milky Way. "And it just so happens that the Dark Ones highlighted said planet. Now what could possibly be so special about Atmos Prime?" he posed.

"And is there a connection with Etxan'Ir? We know the Dark Ones seek the library as well."

"Exactly, Volu. What did the Commonwealth use as a basis for putting the planet on their list?"

Atmos Prime images dissolved to be replaced by the symbol of something called The Coalition for the Preservation of Extinct Cultures. "This organization's work was used to justify the classification. The CPEC is a group of Commonwealth archeologists who specialize in extinct species and seek to protect sites attributed to those races. Apparently, the planet was home to a vanished people called the Eno-" Volu stopped in mid sentence.

Warren glanced to Ettwanae whose expression was also of keen interest. "Volu?"

"The report is lacking. I find it hard to believe the government agreed to preserve an entire planet based on the CPEC report alone, yet I find no other documentation to support the ruling. And very little data is available regarding the Eno people. Puzzling."

Warren sifted through the possibilities. "Puzzling unless you look at it as a sham. Perhaps the planet is on that list for an entirely different reason. Maybe it does have something to do with Etxan'Ir and off limits for that reason. Maybe it's the Dark Ones' home base and they don't want anyone nosing around. Or maybe it's some top-secret Commonwealth military base." Warren ruffled his wings to release some of the tension building from keeping tight reins on a spirited libido. "If the Dark Ones highlighted that star system, I'm betting it has something to do with the library."

Ettwanae's nodded enthusiastically. "We just don't know in what way. You think we should go?" she asked looking to Warren for leadership.

"I do. We've no other leads to follow right now. Volu?"

"I concur. Since the nodes have revealed no other possibilities, it is a reasonable next step."

Warren folded his arms across his chest as wings flicked unconsciously while he considered what it might mean to infiltrate an off-limit planet in the Commonwealth. "We need as much intel as you can scrounge up, Volu, including any intrusion warning systems, planetary protection, and the like. I want to know what we're up against. And I've never traveled within the Commonwealth. What do we need to know about that?"

"We must remain as we do in the Empire, Warren – unknowns. That is our best protection. Ettwanae and I hold no citizenship or status in either realm."

Warren jerked and looked to Ettwanae. "But you lived on Sat'rey most of your life. How…?"

Ettwanae shook her head. "My Sat'reyan guise holds citizenship. I do not, Warren."

Volu's near paranoia made even more sense with that understanding. As non-citizens, they were illegal aliens within the Empire. "Understood. And the LinCreds card is worthless in the Commonwealth, so that means we'll need to fill our holds before leaving Turzent space."

"That would be wise," Volu agreed.

"First, though, Tchutchka. Then we stock up and head out. Agreeable?"

"Agreeable. However, we should restock just prior to leaving Turzent space and not on Tuchutchka."

"Good point." Volu's suggestion made sense on two counts – fill the holds at the last moment so supplies stretch as long as possible and avoid anyone besides Warren going planetside where they might hear of the Tchut mess.

Ettwanae, though, seemed hesitant about something, and Warren gave the woman an inquisitive look.

"We should talk with Flint and Gatebi first. Maybe they won't want to go."

"Then we drop them off at their homes. It'll delay us, but we can't force them to tag along."

Ettwanae nodded agreement, yet her expression revealed conflict. Was she afraid of losing her friends?

"I'll tell them and let you know." Then blue eyes locked on blue. "Won't you tell me why we're going back to Tchutchka? I have bad feelings about it. Should I?"

Warren bristled – she just wouldn't let it go. "No. It's imperial business, like I said ten times before." He cringed as the words came out too harsh.

Coldness instantly hardened the delicate features. "I thought we agreed to trust each other on this journey. You're keeping secrets!" Without waiting for a response, Ettwanae whirled away and exited the bridge with an angry snap of wings.

"Oh, that didn't go well," he lamented as Ettwanae disappeared from sight.

"Neu is over, Warren. We should tell her. Secrecy only builds mistrust."

He considered the suggestion, but this was not Ettwanae's problem. If not for the loss of his feather, the fiasco wouldn't exist. "We're almost to Tchutchka. I'll go down, deal with the authorities, and clear my name. Maybe she never needs to know."

Several silent seconds passed as tension filled the air. "You are asking me to be party to your secret. She presses me daily for an explanation of our return trip to Tchutchka. I am uncomfortable withholding information from my Other much longer without strong reason."

"Even if it will spare her worry? She already shows signs of feeling guilty about our close calls. I'd like to shield her from this, Volu. It's my problem and I have the resources behind me to deal with the issue. Let me do that. Once the fiasco is over, maybe then I'll explain – and apologize profusely."

"You are causing her worry _now_. Do not prolong the situation beyond reason."

Warren nodded. "Agreed. Once I'm no longer a murder suspect, I'll talk with her and make sure she understands you remained silent at my request."

The ship's odd sigh permeated the bridge. "As you wish. Know, though, that Ettwanae's emotional state may become less logical over the coming weeks. She may not be appeased as easily as you hope."

Warren's eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean about her emotional state?"

"Ettwanae's time of year is approaching. Molting is an emotionally…challenging time for her."

'Oh, Jesus!' Warren flinched. "Mood swings? Irritability? Feeling like she wants to tear people's heads off kind of challenging?" He knew all too well about molts, especially 'hard' molts.

"That is a good summation."

"And she has these difficult molts every time?"

"From what she has told me and I have endured, yes."

'_Endured_?' Warren rubbed the back of his neck. "Fuck."

"_That_ will be a new twist to her condition. Before now, Ettwanae has not been of breeding circumstances during a molt. I am uncertain how she will handle that aspect given the unique situation between you."

"Damn."

"My sentiment exactly."

###

Warren woke sweaty, shaking, and painfully aroused. 'Shit!' Just to add to his distress, his head felt like it was splitting in two; pressure building and trying to find a release. Groaning, he crawled out of bed and got unsteadily to his feet. The world seemed surreal as he groped his way down the hall, barely able to walk as his groin felt like it was going to burst along with his head. Not caring if he disturbed Flint, though it was unlikely as the kid slept like the dead, Warren stumbled through the bedroom and into the bath they shared; PJs off in a flash.

"Volu, the works, please," he requested in a tight, hoarse voice; invoking Flint's pseudonym for the sensual shower only the Eshaar'ne was capable of. Warren rested his forehead against the wall, and as the water pelted him from all sides in all the right places – low, teasing, maddening. Body hyper-sensitized with arousal, he shuddered with the mix of burning pain and intense, sexual pleasure.

Wings spread automatically, and the water massaged the highly erogenous zones at their bases. He moaned, wishing for something to hold onto as his body spasmed. The room whirled as physical stimulation swamped him. In a flashover so hot he thought the water might boil on his skin, release came hard and painful in its intensity. Shockwaves rippled head to toe and he nearly choked trying not to cry out and wake Flint. Knees collapsed as the orgasm ended.

He sat on the floor, shaking, unable to move. "Good God."

Many thumping heartbeats later, Volu's quiet voice permeated the air, barely audible above the sound of the shower. "It is as I feared, Warren. The drive to mate has grown more intense by your recent activities."

Warren groaned. She was referring to not only the failed attempt to bond after Neu, but the two nights he and Ettwanae had indulged in simple foreplay and snuggling. It was not what he wanted to hear – he had enjoyed those simple pleasures. "How's Ettwanae?"

"I provided relief for her as well tonight."

'Least it's not just me,' he thought with some conciliation. "So you're saying no more hanky panky?"

"That may be for the best, Warren."

"Damn Ura," he swore in defeat at the enemy of his passion that he could not fight.

Then he felt Volu's presence leave in that odd way that was indescribable. A couple minutes later, Warren was strong enough to stand and the shower stopped automatically. Flapping wings hard to shed water and then toweling down, Warren realized the pain in his head was gone. 'Strange,' he noted about the peculiar pressure he'd experienced for a second time. Pulling on PJ bottoms, he slipped back through Flint's room with nary a grunt out of the teenager. Warren decided the pressure was likely a side effect of an overly stimulated sex drive. 'Something to perhaps talk with Volu about, but not now,' was the decision as he crawled back into the softness of his expensive bed. Body spent, sleep picked up quickly where it had left off prior to the erotic dream.

###

Sitting cross-legged on his bed the next morning, Warren powered up his laptop computer and checked that the files were indeed intact. They would arrive at Tchutchka Centrus later that day. If things went badly…if they detained him and Volu decided to leave him behind…there were two small matters he wanted handled.

"Volu?"

"Yes, Warren."

"Since you know my native language, can you translate some files to Turzent for me?"

"Of course." The tone equated to a 'no duh.'

Warren stretched his wings, already feeling the confinement of his tiny chambers. Feathers brushed either side of the storage room as its breadth was barely half his 16-foot wingspan.

"What are the files?" the living ship asked in obvious curiosity.

"A surprise gift."

"Similar to Flint's pants?" Warren nodded. "What is the purpose of gifts in your culture?"

The question surprised him, but then he thought about it. Cultural differences needed to be taken into consideration he suddenly realized. Was the ship hinting that Gatebi or Ettwanae would interpret the gifts in unintended ways?

"They serve many purposes. A simple thank you, an offer of apology, to fill a need, or in congratulations of a significant event or achievement – lots of reasons to give a gift. Often gifts given as a token of love or friendship. What does it mean to Gatebi?"

"In traditional Alcab culture, gifts are given in honor of great deeds. Gatebi has done nothing to warrant such recognition."

"So giving her a gift like I did Flint is inappropriate?"

"It would leave her puzzled unless explained. Even then, it may make her uncomfortable."

"Then I'm glad I held on to it for awhile." Still, he didn't want the gift to go to waste. Warren considered his alternatives. "What if I loaned the files to her?"

"That approach would be in keeping with Alcab culture."

"Then a loan it is. And what about Eshaaru culture – any taboos against gift-giving?"

"Eshaaru culture is not particularly relevant to Ettwanae as she was raised with Sat'reyan values. In their mores, gifts are symbolic of a deep connection between the giver and the recipient and great thought goes into the selection, taking into account the receiver and the occasion. The exchange is typically a private affair and often never spoken of beyond the two individuals."

"What if I give the gift under Eshaaru traditions?"

"Little is in my memories on the subject, but in the family node, T'Qilla did present T'Azrued with one gift. The recorded image showed a simple presentation with a verbal exchange of affection and gratitude."

Warren contemplated. He'd held off on the gifts for the women as he didn't want to seem to forward with either and now learning what he did, Warren was glad of delay. The ebooks he'd instructed his butler purchased for Gatebi before they left Earth had turned out to be perfect. She loved to read and he felt the classic tales of adventure suited her.

Ettwanae's gift was more personal. Rising from the bed, he dug the box out from its hiding place in one of the crates used for clothes. Opening the box, he smiled. She'd like it, he believed.

"Volu, I was going to give Ettwanae the gift as a thank you."

"A gift of appreciation?"

"Yes."

"For what?"

"For believing in me." Another reason had come into the picture the last ten days. "And as an apology for the Tchut issue. She's still pissed I won't talk that."

Volu remained quiet as he put the lid back on the blue velvet box and set the gift atop the crate.

"She loves you, Warren. That is a precious gift as well."

Tears suddenly sprung up into his eyes, surprising him. "I know she does. Not exactly sure why, but I understand how priceless that is. I- I wish I could tell her I loved her, but I can't. Not quite yet." He sat down on the bed with a heavy sigh. "I'm close, Volu, but not there yet."

"How will you know when you are?"

He huffed. "Good question. I'm in lust of her – goes without saying. Not sure who to thank for that – my own libido, the mysterious Aru-Ura force, or maybe the combo pack. I'm definitely in very strong like of Ettwanae. When I watch her, the way she moves, how she smiles, how she tilts her head to one side when curious…those things warm my heart and I think I'm close to love. Perhaps when they also warm my soul, I'll know." Then he snorted. "Fuck, I don't know, Volu! You're talking to a multi-time loser in the relationship arena. I'm gun-shy at saying it's love. Said that too many times before and things ended – sometimes badly. I can't hang on to relationships – they get away from me," he swept an arm in emphasis.

He pushed himself back on the mattress until he could lean against the wall. Drawing his knees up and wings forward, he created his safe cocoon. Chin resting on his kneecaps, he wondered if maybe he was afraid to love Ettwanae. Suddenly, Ztar's face invaded his thoughts. Old feelings rose up without permission – old lusts, old cravings, old…

Where the emotions truly old…past tense? If the warming in this nether region was any indication, the answer was no. 'Stop, Worthington. You know what's behind this – your bond. A bond you're hoping to sever. The bond that should not exist.' He rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. If not for mutant healing factor, he knew he'd be getting a headache. Volu had been silent during his slip into isolated contemplation.

"Volu?" he called from within the white shroud.

"Yes, Warren?"

"I want to love her, you know. My track record is atrocious, though. What if I screw it up like I always do? And this problem with the bond – what if we can't find a way around it? What if we can never truly be together? I'm not sure I could handle that – if either of us could."

Long pause. "You are _afraid_ to love Ettwanae?"

'Have you really come to that, War ol' boy? Dumped and been dumped so many times that loving someone now frightens you?' Warren squeezed his wings tighter, pressing them against arms, legs, sides. Perhaps if he sealed himself in, the truth couldn't get through. The technique failed. 'Warren Worthington, you're afraid of getting burned.' Then he had an interesting thought. 'Is that what ended up being so appealing about Ztar? He wasn't a woman? A relationship with no real long-term future. Perhaps Ztar was "safe" to care about?' He groaned simultaneous denial and realization it could be true.

"You ask very pointed questions, Volu."

"I must. You are in a position to hurt my Other greatly. Not physically, but psychologically. I see you keeping your emotional distance, Warren. I am worried for Ettwanae. Her love is deepening. Soon it may be too late to pull away without serious repercussions. The time draws near for a decision."

He opened the cocoon. "Love her or leave her?"

"To commit to the effort or tell her you cannot. Love comes or it does not, that you cannot control. But you have told her she is important to you. You have encouraged her to believe love will come. Yet your words and behavior often contradict."

Warren couldn't help but chuckle, obviously not the reaction Volu expected.

"Did I say something amusing?" The tone was terse.

"No, Volu. My apologies. For a moment, I felt like the young man dating the protective father's daughter and I'm getting the 'what are your intentions' drill." He closed his eyes. "You're right. Actually, you're right on a couple points. Yes, I think I am afraid to love her, but it has nothing to do with her. It's my self-doubts about being capable of a successful relationship – one that's lasting. I don't want to hurt her anymore than you want to see her hurt." He pulled the wings back to drop the shields, sighed, and reopened his eyes.

"What else am I right about?"

"That the time is drawing near for a decision. I shouldn't be stringing her along. Either I'm going to plunge ahead and try to make things work between us or I need to tell her I can't.

"If fear holds your heart, Ettwanae cannot."

He nodded. "I know that all too well, Volu. I've made every mistake you can name in the heart department. Given it too quickly, not really given it at all. Given my heart conditionally to the right person and unconditionally to the wrong one. Even given it when it belonged to someone else." His chest was heavy and despite himself, Warren's eyes turned watery. "I'm not sure I know how to do it right any more," he whispered.

"Then do not _give_ it, Warren."

The words both surprised him and didn't. 'You're damaged goods, Worthington. Messed up, fucked up… Volu can see that. Shit, you were even an imperial whore! Why would she want you inflicted on Ettwanae?' Old shames and guilts came to roost. All progress made in feeling positive self-worth flew out the proverbial window. Wings stretched forward once again to surround him, driven by an unconscious desire to hide his sins…himself. 'Man up and admit it, Worthington. Ettwanae's too good for you. Keep this whole quest a business deal, just like you said at the start. Tell Ettwanae you don't love her, can't love her, and set things straight.' Drawing in a breath to steady himself, he relaxed the feather wall.

"You're right again. I need to tell her it won't work between us. We need to focus on the mission and forget about any kind of relationship."

"Warren, I think you misunderstood."

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Do not _give_ your heart, Warren. Not yet. Let it mend first. Ettwanae's spirit can help heal yours. She is, after all, Eshaaru. You only have to allow her in. When you are ready, you may find your heart is already in her hands."

Warren tried to reconcile what he was hearing to everything Volu had said over the past forty-plus days. Her obvious distrust of him, her warnings, her determination to protect Ettwanae at all costs. "I'm confused, Volu. Do you want me and Ettwanae to be a couple or not? The messages have been mixed."

"They are mixed because you have been. My desire for Ettwanae's happiness has not and will never waver. You have potential to be good for Ettwanae – to be her soulbound in all ways. I support that _potential_, though some of your actions have left me less than pleased. Pragmatically, Warren, Ettwanae needs a soulbound. Candidates are limited."

Warren had to snort at that. "Beggars can't be choosers."

"Do _not_ belittle yourself, Warren, it is unhealthy," the Eshaar'ne retorted with gentle sternness.

Warren flinched. "Sorry, old habits." She was right. 'How easily you fall right back into old patterns. Don't let all your hard work fall by the wayside,' he reminded himself. Blue eyes migrated to the velvet box. "What do you want of me, Volu?"

"The question is not the right one, Warren. The question is, what do I want for Ettwanae?"

"I already know the answer to that."

"Then I need not say more."

His eyes had not wavered from the box. "Should I give her the gift?"

"I cannot answer for you."

His mind whirled with conflicting thoughts, emotions, questions, and doubts. 'Bottom line…what's the bottom line?' he asked. Not a new question, nor had the answer changed. He wanted someone to belong to, someone to grow old with, someone to cherish and to be cherished by. Whether that someone was Ettwanae or not, he'd never know if he didn't give it a chance. However, risks of them both getting hurt lurked. And just to complicate the situation, how much of his feelings toward Ettwanae were manipulations of forces he didn't yet fully understand. Flipside – did that really matter?

The words he'd spoken to Ettwanae in the bedchamber only days ago rang in his ears. "I'm not going anywhere…I'm not giving up on us. Each day, you're becoming more important to me – more a part of me." He _was_ encouraging Ettwanae – giving hope of becoming a couple. If he wasn't able or willing to do that wholly, he was being cruel. 'I'm messing up just as I've messed up nearly every relationship I've ever had.' His insides twisted. 'I want you Ettwanae, I really do,' he said rising from the bed. Picking up the blue box, he returned it carefully to its hiding place. 'Just not sure I'm able to give you what you deserve.'

"I need to think about everything, Volu. My hesitation has nothing to do with Ettwanae – it's about me. I've resolved a lot of my emotional baggage the past couple years, but there are areas that still need work."

"Do not think too long, Warren. Meanwhile, Ettwanae deserves to know your insecurities. She has endured many losses and they have left their mark."

That hit home. He'd contemplated that very concern even before Thael. Warren sat down on the edge of the bed. "And we sometimes blame ourselves for our losses even though it's not our fault. You think she'll blame herself for my hesitation to commit."

"You understand correctly." She paused for several moments. "Consider this…Ozshi'wanae brought you together. Aru and Ura determined that you are to be soulbounds. Ettwanae has already given you her heart. You are the only element hesitating."

A sarcastic chuckle escaped. "I don't think Ura agrees with your assessment."

"The false bond to Ztar is an accidental barrier, it does not change the fact you and Ettwanae are intended for each other."

'And hence one of the roots of my hesitation,' he silently pointed out, but he'd not go there with Volu. "I'll talk with Ettwanae and explain – after Tchut."

"Acceptable."

"Thanks for the perspective. It helped." While Warren did appreciate the Eshaar'ne's willingness to talk, he would not lose sight of the motive – protecting Ettwanae. "If I don't return from Tchut, would you make sure Ettwanae knows the box is for her?"

"I will, but you will return to us."

He didn't bother responding. Things happen. He may end up in Tchut custody for all he knew. Grabbing up his laptop, he indicated the files for translation, which Volu accomplished quickly. A few minutes later, Warren rose to find Gatebi, hoping she would indeed enjoy the books.

###

_A/N: Chapter 35 is all about the mess on Tchut. Warren faces their interrogators. Will he walk away or be taken into custody for triple murder? Only way to know is to come back next time!_


	36. Chapter 35

_A/N: Here we go with the secondary story arc. Warren faces Tchutchka Centrus Security investigators. I wanted to dedicate a full chapter to the predicament Warren finds himself. It's a lengthy chapter, so we really sink our teeth into the situation._

_Must admit, I'm a little nervous posting this chapter. I've never written an interrogation scene before, so this was a stretch for me. Feedback is longed for – what you liked, didn't like, any flaws in logic; was it realistic, have sufficient tension, etc. If this chapter stirs you to share your reactions, I would be overjoyed._

_To the steadfast Xrystofer who has nearly single-handedly heeded my calls for feedback thus far – you keep me going. Without you, I may have lost heart by now._

_Let's get on with Warren's challenging day!_

**Chapter 35**

They met early morning at a prearranged, secure location to speak before heading to the sector office of Tchut Planetary Security in the City of Im. Imperial security forces pressed to pick up Warren at his ship, but that, of course, could not happen. That said forces had chosen a vacant building for the briefing meeting with Stjarmas'de both surprised and didn't – much easier to secure a location that should be void of people. However, vacant meant creature comforts were minimal. A simple table and two chairs adorned the otherwise empty, windowless room. Two royal guards flanked the door, phase guns at the ready. Warren knew plenty of other security lurked unseen to provide a safe environment for the two Royals.

The Empire's highest legal voice gave him a crash course in imperial justice. He was entitled to counsel, but not to have counsel physically at his side during questioning. Even the exalted Royal Counselor Stjarmas'de would be restricted to watching a real-time holo projection of the interrogation from another room. Counselors could lodge complaints via a comlink, but the questioners could ignore only but the most grievous of objections.

What Warren found particularly interesting was that trial was by professional jury – people trained to hear and judge cases. Holding honorable positions and thoroughly schooled in the law of the empire, they took an oath of impartiality. Judges weren't involved in trials and jurors actively participated in the proceedings. There was no such thing as a hung jury or dismissed cases – every case heard was granted a verdict. But much to Warren's dismay, a certain amount of proof of innocence by the accused was taken into consideration in reaching a verdict.

"But we plan to avoid a trial, Archangel. That is our primary objective."

He nodded. "Sensible…as a first step, but I want to clear my name completely. Simply avoiding trial doesn't necessarily mean I'm exonerated.

His fellow Court member tilted a hand in partial agreement. "One focus at a time," was all he gave Warren. "Tchut Security has filed formal charges against you, which grants them more authority in building their case."

"What kind of authority?" Warren was feeling more and more like the outsider he was. Imperial justice had many of the same tenets as the American legal system, but exercised differently and its terminology was, well, alien. Aside from his brief exposure as a witness during the recent Etagllot trial, Warren hadn't any experience with Imperial legal workings. He was completely out of his element and wholly dependent on Stjarmas'de. Not a comfortable position for one use to being in control.

"A filing of formal charges authorizes law enforcement to interrogate and detain a suspect. They can subpoena information from the accused, such as genetic profiles and other private records. The filing is not an indictment, but rather an intermediate step toward a Full Order." Before Warren could ask, the lawyer answered his next question. "A Full Order is a legal document outlining specific charges and related penalties and a citing of laws allegedly violated. We do not want the situation to advance to a Full Order – that will trigger a Call to Court."

"As in we appear before the judge?"

A sharp nod confirmed. "Thus far, we successfully avoided Full Order. However," the stoic face seemed to harden, "you have not helped our case by being incommunicado and tardy in your arrival here. That served only to inflame and Tchut authorities came very close to openly accusing the Royal Court of stalling the legal process."

Warren grimaced. "So we have a bit of hostility to overcome is what you're saying."

"And a lot of bad press."

Stjarmas'de went on to share that Gtar-Cro and company continued investigating the incident, but had learned little to aid his defense. Warren could tell the Sat'reyan was worried despite the impassive demeanor. "Today is about dissecting your side of the incident. They informed me that you will be questioned by two of their interrogators." The man leaned slightly in toward Warren. "Do not expect your position to grant you any leniency in their questioning."

"I hadn't. I'm curious about something, though. Do telepaths play a role in the judicial system?"

"Yes, under certain circumstances, but use of their abilities is limited and highly regulated. Suspects cannot be forced to submit to telepathic probing or empathic monitoring under the constitution. However, witnesses can be monitored by a court empath if either side requests and the opposing side does not object, but under no circumstances can those testifying be telepathically probed without their consent."

That surprised Warren considering the Empire's top man was one. "But MI uses telepaths regularly," Warren objected. "How does that work?"

The lawyer fixed his coal-black Sat'reyan eyes on Warren's crystal blues. The species would make intimidating interrogators and imposing attorneys just by the eyes alone. In contrast to Moit'de, whose kindly disposition was reflected in the Sat'reyan gardener's warm black eyes, Stjarmas'de's all too easily treaded toward the cold and calculating. "Imperial security overrides individual rights in certain instances. In the face of an undeniable connection to known terrorist organizations, such as the Etagllot and Mennisa Freedom Fighters, or to other treasonous activity, a suspect can be forcibly probed. The safety of the many outweighs the rights of the few under those very specific conditions. But again, the evidence must be overwhelming or the suspect can protest and likely win their plea."

"So, for example, Etagllots captured during raids are fair game for telepathic probing."

Stjarmas'de nodded. "Yes, that would qualify as overwhelming evidence."

"And thus the new constitution allows MI to continue their fight against terrorists using telepaths."

"Correct." The man paused and leaned back. "Now I need to hear about the alley incident in great detail, as well as what your archeological search entails and about the people you travel with, particularly the one with you in the alley."

Warren decided beforehand that he'd reveal nearly everything about his mission to the lawyer, except he'd maintain Ettwanae's secret. Sometime later, Stjarmas'de was satisfied he understood the situation. The man's preparatory interrogation would help when Warren faced the Tchut inquisitors. Concerns about keeping Ettwanae's true identity hidden nagged, though.

"Is the use of scanners allowed during questioning? The kind that can differentiate between truth and otherwise?"

Stjarmas'de tensed instantly at the question. "You plan to be less than truthful?"

"I worry about any line of questioning regarding the nannites," Warren was being honest on that much. "The fewer people who know about what they are and what they can do, the better. I've already got the Etagllot after me."

The court member gestured acceptance of the explanation. "I understand your concern. First, to answer your question, sensors of that nature are not allowed to be used on an accused as it could self-incriminate. Second, if the questioning becomes too detailed on the subject, I will lodge an objection based on imperial security. If you recall, MI classified the technology within you as an imperial secret before the recent Etagllot trial on Sat'rey. Just as during those proceedings, the Tchuts can ask their questions, but only the broadest of details need be revealed."

Warren nodded. "And Ettwanae – she cannot become involved with this."

"She already is, Archangel," the answer came matter-of-factly.

"I don't want her questioned." Even as he said it, Warren knew what the answer would be.

"My apologies, Archangel, I can make no promises. Witnesses stated there were two of you in the alley. From the Tchut perspective, she is a witness at best and the perpetrator at worst. They wish to question her. To this point, they simply don't know whom to summon and have been biding their time, but after today, they will insist." Warren received a hard look from his attorney. "Why do you object? She will substantiate your story, will she not?"

He nodded. "She will. It's just…" Should he, shouldn't he? Ztar already knew Ettwanae was Eshaaru, which was strictly contrary to her desires. Should he trust Stjarmas'de with that same knowledge and how important it was her existence remain unknown? Faith in Stjarmas'de really wasn't the issue – Ettwanae's belief that Warren would keep her secret was. Yet the counselor needed something to work with. "It is complicated and you'll have to trust me on some of this, but Ettwanae is of a species that cannot be revealed. She only appears to be Sat'reyan."

Stjarmas'de actually showed surprise. "Who else knows this?"

"Ztar."

"Am I to be privilege to her true nature?"

"No."

"She cannot be revealed as being of a particular species or the _species_ cannot be exposed."

"The latter."

The man contemplated silently for many moments. "Her appearance as Sat'reyan is holo induced?"

"It goes way beyond a simple projected image. Sensors cannot penetrate the disguise."

Stjarmas'de seemed truly startled and his eyes narrowed. "We're talking extremely advanced technology, correct?" Again, Warren nodded. "If I understand you, scanners cannot reveal her as being other than what she appears. If her identity is safe, explain again why she cannot be questioned? Keep in mind telepathy is not allowed under the circumstances."

He recalled what Ettwanae had said about her natural telepathic shields so telepathic probing wasn't a concern, but the point was moot. He would not involve her in his problem. Warren leaned on the table. "Because is she young, somewhat naïve, and I don't think she'd hold up well under intense interrogation." That was a stretch, as he knew Ettwanae had stood up under torture to keep her secret when the Etagllot held her, but no one else knew that. "Her and her people's existence must remain undisclosed. She is not to become involved. More than that, I cannot share." He made certain his tone left little doubt as to his firmness on the issue.

The Sat'reyan sat back slowly; black, whiteless eyes not wavering as he studied Warren. "Archangel, contra-stipulations and secrets do not help our case."

Warren held the counselor's gaze. "I am a member of the Royal Court of Ztar and by default, a high-ranking government official. Secrets come with the job." While Warren didn't hold a specific government position like the rest of Ztar's Court, simply being on Court meant he was a member of the highest echelon of Imperial government.

"Agreed to a degree, but we're dealing with perceptions as well. If our Court is seen as keeping too many secrets and abusing our power, it will have untold ramifications on the Emperor's infant government. We need to be seen as epitomes of our new constitution, not as holdovers from the old era. I shouldn't have to explain to you the power of the comnet."

"You do not, but I won't risk Ettwanae and her people."

"The Emperor agrees with this?"

"He knows the importance of protecting Ettwanae."

Stjarmas'de went deep into thought. Moments later, a sudden change came over the lawyer's face. "Is this woman an imperial citizen?"

"I was told she is not, but how do you become an imperial citizen?"

"If you are born of an imperial citizen, you are a citizen."

"Then I would say she is not."

A twinkle lit Stjarmas'de's eyes. "Then she cannot be forced to submit to questioning. She can claim diplomatic protection as a representative of a non-aligned world."

"Will they buy that?"

"Irrelevant. That claim moves your traveling companion beyond their jurisdictional authority even in this case. Let me worry about the specifics and maneuverings, but diplomatic immunity is a valid request under the circumstances. Tchut Security will request our diplomatic staff pressure Ettwanae to submit to questioning, but beyond that, there is little they can do." Stjarmas'de went silent for several seconds, then "How did you meet this Ettwanae – or is that a secret as well?"

Warren provided a censored version their first encounter. From the subtle changes in expression, his fellow court member suspected it wasn't the whole story.

"This may be a situation where augmentation of fact is desirable. If she has diplomatic status, we can use that to develop a more realistic background for your current association." After a couple minutes, they had a simple, but more believable first encounter scenario. Warren hated lying and hoped it didn't come to that, but it would raise fewer questions than the truth.

Rising, Stjarmas'de's excused himself for a couple minutes to send a comm message somewhere, and Warren breathed a sigh of relief. They just may be able to keep Ettwanae out of the mess yet. Now he had to worry about himself. 'Shit, Worthington, talk about being on the hot seat! You better keep your wits about you in what, less than 30 minutes,' he coached himself with a glance at the PI hanging from his waist. Then he felt a gentle mental touch.

/ _Ztar! _/

/ _Be not afraid, fierce Archangel, you will convince them of your innocence. The Mi-Lartui is in orbit above Tchutchka Centrus. Please come see me when you are done with their interrogators._ _My love and strength is with you. _/ Just a quickly as it entered, the mental presence departed.

'Ztar came?' Surprise rapidly melted into warm feelings at the gesture of support in traveling so far. Then again, the seriousness of the situation may have required the Emperor's presence regardless. Whatever the reason, it would be good to see the big guy again. Ztar would want to hear all about his and Ettwanae's adventures and Warren found himself looking forward to the sharing, yet torn on how much to reveal. 'Other things to worry about right now. Stay focus, Worthington.'

Then a wryly smile crossed his lips at the memories of their private time together less than 50 standard days prior. He and Ztar would _not_ end up in bed this time – he would be unwavering on that. 'Ztar has Jharda now. She's expecting their child.'

When Stjarmas'de approached the table, Warren was still smiling. "Message from the Emperor – he's here," he explained.

"He told me a few days ago he was coming. I am to report as well when we're done here. Sukja and I are to debrief while you and Ztar do likewise."

Warren caught an ever so slight smirk on Stjarmas'de's face. 'What I think you're thinking, fellow court member, _ain't_ happening!' he silently retorted. "Can your shuttle take me up?"

"Of course." Any hint of expression vacated the usual poker face. "I've alerted my staff that your Ettwanae is a citizen of an undisclosed, non-aligned system with diplomatic status. They will make the appropriate notations in the legal documents and imperial records." The Sat'reyan stepped back from the table. "Now we need to leave for Planetary Security. We'll finish our conversation on the way."

Flanked by guards, they stepped out of the nondescript building and immediately into a skimmer. Warren had only enough time to see two equally unremarkable escort vehicles, which he knew would be heavily but discreetly armed. The ride took ten minutes tops during which they ironed out a few last details Stjarmas'de raised. The situation was becoming much too real and anxiety rose as the covert cavalcade turned down a service alley and ran along the back of a large building, pausing as an unmarked door slid open. The crafts slipped inside.

As the vehicle settled and guards took their positions, Warren had one last question for his attorney. "Fellow Court member, do you have a first name? I've never heard it mentioned – not once in all these years." Sat'reyans traditionally had a given name and family name, just like Warren's gardener friend from the palace, Srandrez Moit'de.

The man grinned the first truly amused smile Warren could recall seeing on the face – ever. The skimmer hatch slid open. "And that's exactly how I prefer it." With that, Stjarmas'de stepped outside and headed toward a doorway three paces away.

Warren had little time to wonder at the dodging response. Inhaling deeply, he held it, and then exhaled slowly as he stepped out. His palms were moist. He hoped his wings didn't give away the fact that he was trembling inside. He felt underdressed, not having packed any clothes suitable to wear to an interrogation. Stjarmas'de's attire was decidedly serious, leaving Warren uncertain if his jeans, sneakers, and light sweater would appear too casual or dismissive of the gravity of the situation. It added to his off-balance feeling. Then again, the attorney made no mention of his outfit and the Tchuts likely would have no idea of the connotations the laid-back apparel held on Earth. The famed Worthington cool, detached air was failing him, but he'd cut himself some slack – it's not every day you face charges in a triple-homicide case far from your home planet.

Stjarmas'de approached a formally dressed Tchut standing nearby. "Magistrate Nzonzdri, I am pleased to meet in person after so many comlink discussions," he extended, imperial tones coming through loud and clear.

With a wave of flat hands, the Magistrate replied as customary when addressing a member of royalty. "Ztjarmaz'de of the Royal Court of Ztar, it iz an honor to be in your prezenze." The accent was prominent, though not nearly as pronounced as the woman's in Tider's shop.

"Archangel of the Royal Court of Ztar, please know Magistrate Nzonzdri," the counselor introduced. Shaking hands was not an Imperial custom, thus Nzonzdri bowed his head slightly followed by Warren's nod of acknowledgement.

With formalities fulfilled, the Tchut's face turned from cordial greeting to serious business. "Pleaze come with me. We will attempt to abide your requezt to prozeed with effizienzy in conzideration of schedulez and the zenzitive nature of thiz inquiry."

Warren was picking up that Nzonzdri didn't drop his Ts, much easier to understand than the female shopkeeper had been.

"I trust the security precautions we discussed are in effect?"

The Tchut official gave a quick flick of a hand. "Naturally. The timing of your vizit," Warren noted an odd emphasis on 'visit', "haz not been zhared with the comnet newz zervizez, but zeveral of their liaizonz have taken to monitoring our fazility. We zhould be prepared that they may know you are in the building."

Stjarmas'de did not seem surprised. "That was anticipated. The area was thoroughly swept by MI security and several loiterers detained. Actually, Magistrate, I am somewhat disappointed that action hadn't been performed by Planetary Security."

Warren spied forced neutrality in the Tchut's face. "Royal Counzelor Ztjarmaz'de, we walk a fine line between protecting the privazy of the accuzed and honoring rightz granted under our new conztitution. The actionz by Military Intelligenze edged toward infringing on thoze rightz. Take care in what you and your Court do to gain greater privilege than the ordinary zitizen – it may have ramificationz you do not intend."

The warning was stern, but delivered without emotion. The Magistrate was obviously used to dealing with delicate situations. Stjarmas'de only gave a quick nod of acknowledgment. Warren doubted very much that he and Gtar-Cro hadn't considered the ramifications of their actions. Warren likewise doubted the lack of a reporter/loiterer sweep by Tchut authorities had anything to do with strict observance of the new freedoms enjoyed by the news media and everything to do with image. Let MI do the dirty work and take the heat while Tchutchka Centrus Planetary Security looked like the honorable ones.

Nzonzdri led them and their security entourage through empty corridors, every door to adjoining areas closed, to end up in what appeared to be a large lobby – probably the main entrance to the facility. All eyes were on them as they hurried through. From the curious but unsurprised faces, everyone had expected the two Royals. As Warren glanced around, he saw only uniformed bodies – if he had to guess, he'd say the lobby had been cleared of all but essential personnel.

Warren strained his ears to hear the quiet exchanges between those they passed, but picked up only snatches. "Human. Do they all look like tha'?" "…familiar with thoze legendz…uncanny…" "…thinkz he did…'elekineziz." "…Ztar'z Court muz be jaging!" Warren's embedded translator didn't relate the meaning of the last phrase, but from the tone, it wasn't something desirable.

At the far end of the lobby, they passed through a security portal and proceeded down a corridor to enter a windowless room set up with several chairs around oblong table – very sparse, very utilitarian. Two uniformed Tchut hovered near a second door at the rear of the room.

"Firzt," the Magistrate said, "I need to requezt your guardz remain outzide." Stjarmas'de immediately protested. "I underztand your zezurity conzernz, but they are unfounded. Thiz fazility iz on lockdown, your guardz will be juzt outzide, and you will be in the next room with additional guardz. Requezt denied." And that was apparently the end of the matter. "Az you have ztrezzed the importanze of expedienzy, we zhould begin immediately. I truzt you and the Emperor appreziate that Planetary Zezurity haz zhown extraordinary patienze in thiz matter and we will be conducting a thorough interrogation in return for that patienze." The look exchanged between the opposing lawyers was deadpan.

"The Emperor and his Court do appreciate your understanding of the unusual circumstances and the unfortunate resulting postponement in Archangel's appearance. I trust in the continued impartiality and professionalism of your staff and know they hold no bias against Archangel due to the unintentional delay."

Icy air filled the room despite the diplomatic smile spread across Stjarmas'de's face. Warren hated being talked about as if he weren't there, but he understood legal dancing and that he was completely out of his element. He'd do exactly as Stjarmas'de instructed. Answer the questions asked but volunteer no additional information all the while coming across as if he sincerely wanted to help with the investigation. He must appear cooperative and fully disclosing. Warren would be walking the proverbial tightrope.

"We all dezire the zame outcome, Counzelor – the truth. That iz our only biaz. Zhall we begin?"

The two uniformed Tchuts moved forward to be introduced by the Magistrate, their names full of too many consonants for Warren's tongue and he wouldn't even try to repeat for fear of offending. He tagged the one with a largest flat nose Schnoz and the smaller one Jimmy, despite not being able to discern their gender. With formalities completed, Warren's lifeline followed the Magistrate through the back exit and the door slid closed with a firm thud. The simple sound drove a tremor through Warren. He was pretty much on his own.

"Pleaz, zi', Archangel," Schnoz motioned to a chair in the middle of the table, the heavily accented Turzent immediately evident. Following his interrogators' speech may be the biggest challenge. If it became too much effort, he'd protest. Schnoz and Jimmy took their seats, one at each end of the table.

Stjarmas'de told him the session would be recorded from several angles, so body language would be as important as his verbal responses. Warren would make every effort to keep his body open – no crossing of arms or other defensive postures.

"We will begin with even'z on Imperial da'e 3037.264. Wha' brough' you 'o Chuchka?"

He was instantly confused. 'A variation of the planet's name?' he wondered, but wanted no misunderstandings. "I was on Tchutchka Centrus."

Schnoz toggled his hand in a gesture unknown to Warren. "My apologiez, Archangel. Chuchka iz na'ive name for our world. Imperial name hard for me. Otherz have be'ered maz'ered 'urzen' language, bu' I find difficul'. Perhapz I zpeak Chuchkan and allow 'ranzla'orz 'o do their job?"

Warren agreed – that'd be much easier. Embedded translators took over as Schnoz began again in his native tongue.

"On 3037.264, you were on Tchutchka Centrus correct?"

Warren breathed easier. Much better. "Yes."

"What brought you to our world?"

"We were seeking information."

"What kind of information and from whom?" The man leaned forward.

"We came to see a man named Tider about any knowledge he had of the location of certain U'larr artifacts."

"Who is 'we'?"

"Ettwanae and I."

"Is that her full name?"

Warren nodded. "As far as I know."

"We'll get back to her later, Archangel. Please explain about the U'larr artifacts."

"My traveling companions and I are on an archeological search to find out what happened to the ancient race and their legendary library, or at least learn as much as we can. We were told Tider is an expert in the field."

An upturning of one of the four hands seemed to indicate surprise. "So you seek to solve a mystery that no one else in two thousand years has been able to?"

Warren gave his interrogators a diffident smile. "That it the ultimate hope, but we know it is unlikely. Still, the hunt is exciting."

"Exciting enough to have ended in the death of three men?" Jimmy looked hard at Warren.

He put on a sincere baffled expression. "That is a mystery onto itself. I don't know why those men threatened us."

"Let's take this one step at a time." Schnoz took control again. "Tell us about your visit to the purveyor known as Tider."

The questioning continued, step by step, point by point, from the moment they arrived at Tchut through his and Ettwanae's transaction with Tider, though Warren left out the exact nature of their "currency" and details regarding Volu's unauthorized landing. He treaded the fine line between revealing enough without giving away Ettwanae's secrets. He prayed Tider had done likewise. Instinct said the broker had. Warren wondered what ramifications Tider had suffered from the incident, but there was nothing to be done about that.

Schnoz leaned back and crossed his legs and his two lower arms. "And so you seek not only the U'larr, but these Eshaaru as well?"

"We do, because finding Eshaaru could lead to the U'larr – it's a theory anyway."

"Eshaaru…Esserru – one and the same?"

"I know of the Turzent legend, but don't know if they are based on the ancient Eshaaru people. You'd have to ask a Turzent lore expert."

Schnoz studied Warren intently for several seconds; the eyes roving down the wings. "Are you Esserru?"

"I am not."

"You look the part."

"Looks are misleading. I am Human," he replied with conviction.

The interrogator eyed him sharply. "Your genetic profile will confirm that?"

Warren nodded.

Apparently convinced, Schnoz moved onto to what occurred after their meeting with Tider. "In the alley, you waited for your other traveling companions?"

"That is correct."

"What happened while you waited?"

"We talked a bit, but I felt uneasy – like someone was watching us. Ettwanae and I decided to leave the alley and had just turned to go when the attack happened." He stopped there, not wanting to advance the story too far without prompting.

Schnoz locked eyes with Warren. "Continue, Archangel, tell us everything you remember."

Warren made a point to rest his arms on the table in an open position with deep concern on his face. "Someone phase-stunned Ettwanae – without warning or provocation. She dropped to her knees, barely conscious. I grabbed her up and I was going to run, but the end of the alley was blocked by three armed figures."

Jimmy exchanged a glance with Schnoz and took over. "Why didn't you fly out?"

"Because I had put on my harness back on before leaving Tider's shop."

"What is a harness?"

Warren explained the contraption and when he had donned it while the Tchuts listened intently.

"You didn't mention that before."

"Sorry," he apologized simply.

"Why wear such a device?"

"Security – I'm less identifiable as a member of Court."

Jimmy nodding in apparent acceptance of the logic. "What happened next?"

"They told me to kneel. I asked again what they wanted, but they just repeated their demand, guns pointing at us the whole time."

"What did they look like?"

He described them as best he could, which wasn't well as their faces had been shadowed with the sun to their backs. Jimmy activated a holo projection and three faces with matching full-body views floated above the table.

"Are these the individuals?"

Warren studied them carefully. "I don't know. As I said, the sun was in my face."

"You were how far away from the individuals?"

"About 25 feet." Warren wondered if the translator knew the distance conversion.

"In Imperial measure," Jimmy asked for clarification.

"Roughly 8 onta," Warren estimated, since an onta was about a metric meter.

"Were you armed?"

"No, we felt it best not to be."

"You had nothing on your person that could be used as a weapon?"

"No."

Jimmy went silent, palms coming together in a thoughtful, fourhanded clasp; leaving Warren to wonder what the alien was contemplating. "What happened after they repeated their demand for you to kneel?"

"They started making odd sounds – like choking noises. It wasn't long before the first one fell and then the other two."

"Where were you when they fell?"

"I hadn't moved – still about 8 onta away."

"What caused them to fall?"

Warren shrugged, wings making more rustling noise than he'd have preferred. "I don't know. I was as surprised as they apparently were."

"Someone attacked them?"

"At the time, I could only assume that was the case."

Schnoz spread one flat hand on the table and reclaimed lead. "Do you possess any unusual mental abilities?"

"What do you mean?"

"The ability to manipulate objects with your thoughts."

"No."

"Are you telekinetic?"

"No."

"Telepathic?"

"No."

"Is your travel mate telekinetic or telepathic?"

"No."

Schnoz gave Warren a look he couldn't read. "You are certain?"

"As much as anyone can be about another person's abilities."

"Then it would be more accurate to say that in the time you've known Ettwanae, she has not demonstrated such abilities in front of you?"

Warren cringed internally. They were homing in on Ettwanae as a suspect. He scrambled for something to turn them away from that conclusion. "If she were telekinetic or telepathic, I see no reason she would have hid those talents from me. I understand the importance of knowing your teammate's skills as that understanding may prove to be the deciding factor in a threatening situation. I had a frank discussion with everyone on board when we began our search and no one claimed telepathic or telekinetic talents. I saw no signs of deception in those conversations. I feel completely confident in saying they spoke truthfully with full disclosure, Ettwanae included." Warren hoped his tone and manner conveyed certainty. As Volu said, what Ettwanae and she shared was not true telepathy as they were a closed circuit onto themselves.

Schnoz studied Warren. "That will be a point to confirm when we question your shipmates."

Warren's heart lurched. 'Shit.' But there was little he could do. He'd have to trust Stjarmas'de to maneuver them out of that scenario.

"Back to the alley," Jimmy redirected. "Your alleged assailants are now on the ground. What happened next?"

"A fourth individual stepped just within the alley."

"Go on."

Warren detailed the conversation and gave what description he could.

"So this person you believe to be male did not admit to attacking the three men?"

"He _implied_ responsibility," Warren repeated what he'd already said once.

"Do you believe he did?"

"It would be a logical assumption that either he did or someone with him."

"Were the men dead?"

"I don't know. They weren't moving or breathing from what I could tell."

"You could see whether they were breathing from 8 onta?" Disbelief crossed Jimmy's face.

"Yes. I have extremely good eyesight."

"Yet your extremely good eyesight failed you in getting a clear look at any of the four individuals?"

"I have excellent vision, but backlit silhouettes and sun glare interfere with my eyes just as it does with anyone's."

"And you didn't check the men?"

Warren couldn't stop the sigh that escaped. "We were afraid and left quickly."

"You were afraid."

The echoed words were more statement than question. Warren sensed Jimmy didn't like the response for some reason. "That others were lurking around. And Ettwanae was still recovering from the stun hit. Yes, I was afraid."

"Who carried whom out of the alley."

"She carried me."

"While recovering from a _stun shot_?" Jimmy flashed Warren an incredulous look.

"It must have been a low-power hit."

"Very low power. Sat'reyans are known for their drug resistance, but I've heard nothing about being exceptional tolerant of phase gun discharge." Tchut features hardened. "How did she do it?"

Warren wasn't sure on which point Jimmy was wondering. "Do what?"

"How did she carry you out of the alley?"

"She was wearing a Freeflier." He'd read about the device once on the comnet, which was an anti-grav exoskeleton with propulsion units that allowed the wearer to fly. It was very popular amongst certain more daring segments of the population, but highly restricted in where it could be used because of the dangers of interfering with skimmer and shuttle traffic. A Freeflier explained Ettwanae's ability to fly. Unfortunately, it was also a lie. "She carried me out because I didn't take the time to shed the harness."

Schnoz made an entry in the computer as Jimmy continued. "And she managed this after being hit by a phase blast?"

"I can only assume the stun setting was low, but she was still shaky." Warren swallowed, his mouth dry. He would have put money on the next question and he'd better had a reasonable explanation.

"Why was she wearing such an expensive device?"

He would have won his bet. One of his wings moved with an errant twitch as he recited the same explanation he'd given Stjarmas'de. "In case we got into trouble and needed to leave quickly. Our research told us that whole U'larr search business can get a bit dicey – some seekers are overly passionate apparently. We had no idea what we might face with Tider."

Schnoz stood and began slowly pacing. "Need to stretch my legs," he informed no one in particular and took over the questioning. "Are you saying this Tider could be dangerous?"

"We didn't know, so we chose to stack the odds in our favor for a quick escape if our meeting went badly. I can fly. Ettwanae cannot – without the Freeflier, that is."

"Interesting. Yet you went in unarmed." Warren did not take the bait to defend that decision. Several seconds passed as Schnoz strode across the room and back. "Where did you go when you left the alley?"

"We met up with the others and returned to the ship."

"Ettwanae – she's Sat'reyan, correct?"

"She looks full-blooded Sat'reyan to me." The fine line was precarious.

Jimmy made an odd guttural sound and Schnoz relinquished control.

"I need to better understand something you said earlier. You claim you were afraid…" Jimmy dismissed the floating image of the men and activated another image – a bio file, complete with images of Warren in his X-man uniform. "Someone trained as a fighter, someone that has been seen in battle a large portion of his adult life, someone who has gone against extremely formidable opponents, was afraid." Again, a statement, not a question.

Warren looked at the holo images – some he recognized as captured by the Earth news media, others he hadn't a clue. They spanned quite a length of time, as the changes in uniform attested. Someone had done their homework. 'But how'd they get these? Earth is quarantined!' he riled internally. 'Moot point – they have them.'

"As I said, Ettwanae was recovering and we didn't know who else may be lurking. I was afraid for her."

Jimmy expanded an icon and immediately footage of him in all his apocalyptic glory materialized; steel wings flashing in the sun as he blazed through the sky and came to a hover. Jimmy paused the footage. "And as hard as it is to believe, this is a recording of you as well, our researchers tell us."

Dread and old pain rolled over him. Just as quickly, he realized the disclosure might actually help strengthen his case if he played it right. Warren nodded.

"Quite impressive." Jimmy put a feathered-winged version of Warren next to the steel-winged image. "How is it you appear as both? Holo projection?"

Warren saw his opening to plant seed for the Etagllot defense. He would reveal enough, but not too much of the classified technology. "I am host to advanced technology that transformed me into that other form for a period of time, but then I reverted to my true nature."

"Transformed? What kind of technology is capable of _that_?" Schnoz asked in amazement with a wave of two arms at the floating image as he walked toward Warren.

"I cannot reveal anything more – it's classified."

"I can see why," Schnoz remarked from his position now directly behind Warren. "Frightening potential – _lethal_, if our information is accurate. The science must be extraordinary."

"Extremely advanced, yes." Warren squelched the desire to twist around and face his inquisitor.

"An understatement, Archangel. But we understand your planet to be technologically…young," Schnoz phrased diplomatically, holding his position at Warren's back. "Certainly, this is Imperial technology then…"

"All I will confirm is the technology is not of Earth and was not of my choosing." A bit of an exaggeration, but in essence the truth. Warren had sold out to Apocalypse to regain precious flight and regretted it nearly every day of his life since.

Schnoz rested a hand on either side of the back of Warren's chair, arms brushing pseudo-incidentally against wings. He tried not to stiffen at the physical contact. 'Invading my personal space – an intimidation technique.'

The man behind him leaned closer to his ear. "In that form, Archangel, do you possess the ability to kill with a thought?"

Warren fought the desire to lash out with his wings – wings powerful enough to break the intrusive limbs still to either side of his shoulders. "No."

"To take us back to where this was headed. You are a trained warrior. You have been seen fighting many battles. You have an alternate form capable of inflicting great harm. Yet you were _afraid_ in the alley. Perhaps so afraid that you killed to protect your traveling companion."

Tension filled Warren – muscles tightened and hands clenched. The Tchut's looming presence was likely producing exactly the effect the man intended. "I was afraid for Ettwanae, yes, but I did not kill those men."

"The fourth man did?"

"I can't answer that. I only know the men collapsed just before he appeared. He implied responsibility, but that is all. I wish I could tell you he killed them, but I have no proof."

"Do you know how the men died?"

"I was told strangulation and blocked blood supply to the brain." The urge to slash out with his wings to get Schnoz to move off was increasing steadily. The man's closeness to his back pressed on Warren's feral side to avoid such a vulnerable position.

"Correct, though not an external mark was found on the victims. How is that possible?"

"You're the experts. _We_ were attacked – they were the aggressors. Perhaps you should focus more on their actions." Annoyance grew at the rehashing of points.

"Did you know that no one remembers seeing the fourth man even though several people were close by?" Jimmy stepped in verbally to divert from the immediate subject.

Warren didn't know that. Only one explanation came to mind. "Perhaps he was cloaked somehow."

"To everyone but you and the female?" Jimmy's tone transmitted disbelief.

"On my world, some telepaths can make themselves invisible to everyone but those they wish to see them."

"That would be quite an ability. You are proposing this individual is a telepath?"

"It is a _possible_ explanation based on my experience with telepaths."

"Does your world also have telekinetics?" Schnoz asked from behind Warren, taking the conversational reins again.

"It does."

"Are you one?"

"I am not." Warren could feel the man's eyes looking down at him and the sensation of the clothing against feathers. It was a struggle to keep the wings from knocking the threatening presence away…an errant tremor ran to the feathery tips in the effort.

"The men were killed telekinetically – it is the only theory proposed that fits the forensic evidence. Impressive, considering the three men died virtually simultaneously. That would take a great deal of skill, considering the precision of the act."

"Not beyond what I've known TKs to be able to do. For some, it would hardly be a strain."

Jimmy posed the next question. "And this alleged fourth individual, the one no one else saw, you propose he was a telekinetic?"

'God, how much longer is this going to go?' Stress and thirst were building. "I propose nothing."

"You saw no one else."

"Only passersby who started gathering at the head of the alley."

Schnoz finally moved away and retook his seat. Warren sighed silently in relief. Jimmy and Schnoz exchanged a look Warren could not read. Jimmy twirled his PI on the table.

Schnoz caught Warren's eyes. "Archangel, who would want harm you or your companion?"

'Finally!' Stjarmas'de said Tchut authorities were informed he had been kidnapped once already by the illegal scientific organization. Warren would push his defense of being the ongoing target of nefarious intent. "The people who want what I carry around in my body. The same people who kidnapped me once before. The Etagllot."

"Are you saying the three men were Etagllot operatives?"

"It would make sense."

"Despite that no Etagllot connection has been found?"

"Doesn't mean it isn't there."

The interrogator gave Warren an obviously feigned puzzled look. "Why stun the female and not you?"

"To get her out of the way? I don't know. Perhaps it was the simple fact that she stood between me and them." Thirst chafed and he licked his lips.

"Why not stun you immediately after?"

"I'm not a telepath – I don't know their reasoning." Did they really expect him to know these things? He felt like growling.

"And the man you say saved you – who was he?"

Warren gave himself permission to frown. "I haven't a clue."

"Is it possible he was an imperial operative?"

Suddenly, a tone sounded from the table controls, making Warren jump. 'Stjarmas'de raising an objection?' he speculated as the men looked to the embedded display. 'Why on this point? Or is something else going on?' Warren was beginning to truly appreciate why it was so beneficial to have counsel bodily at your side. He may have to talk with Ztar about changing that part of Imperial law.

It was Schnoz's turn to place a frown on his flat face as he read the apparently lengthy message. Tensions elevated as silence continued. Warren used the opportunity to gather himself and take stock of his state – he was growing tired, hungry, thirsty, and the room was becoming too warm. A thin sheen of sweat coated his body, adding to the discomfort. All factors that could lead him to make a mistake. 'Need to watch myself.'

Schnoz and Jimmy exchanged something in silent eye contact. It made Warren uneasy.

"Why kill those three men? Why not just incapacitate?"

Warren was nearing the end of his tolerance at the improper questions. "You're asking me to speculate – I won't. It gains us nothing."

"You are wrong, Archangel. Speculation often leads to new perspectives." Jimmy leaned back in the chair with a superior pose that transcended species. "Speaking of that, I'd like to recap my understanding thus far of your perspective of events, Archangel. It will be concise. You are on an archeological search and make contact with an expert in the field – Tider. When you left his premises, you were attacked by unknown assailants for undisclosed reasons, but you suggest an organization called the Etagllot may be behind the incident. An unknown person then killed those men to protect you. You propose that your protector was both telepathic and telekinetic as one possible explanation to events, yet you have no insight as to why he would provide aid. Have I summarized your position correctly?"

"With one correction. _You_ said telekinesis was the only theory to explain the cause of death. Otherwise, that is essentially correct."

"Noted," Jimmy gave him. "I do have a problem with your theory of the fourth individual being a telepath. If a telepath can cause people to not remember seeing someone, why not erase the memories of the witnesses seeing _you_ as well? Wouldn't that be a wise precaution?"

"Perhaps when your investigators find him, you can ask." The sarcastic response likely did Warren no favors, but the questioning was improper, or would be if he were being interrogated in the US. But he wasn't in America – not even on Earth. 'The rules are different here,' he reminded himself and renewed the effort to keep temper in check.

"I don't understand your actions, Archangel. From your perspective, you were attacked without warning or provocation possibly by agents of an organization that kidnapped you once before." Jimmy came forward in a quick move. "_Why_ did you not immediately seek security protection?" The question was unmistakably accusatory.

Stjarmas'de warned the issue would be sticking point. "I just wanted to leave. It seemed the safest course of action at the time."

"So you left the scene of a crime, left the planet, and even after safely aboard your ship, did not report the incident."

"Yes…a mistake in judgment," he freely admitted.

Jimmy's eyes were like ice. "A gross error in judgment, not to mention against the law."

"But if you knew the Etagllot, you'd understand my decision. They are a very powerful organization, with what I'm told is a large network of embedded operatives. If they had people on this world, the longer I remained, the greater the danger."

Schnoz tapped a couple fingers on the table. "All the more reason to call someone for protection. Again, why didn't you at least comm Tchut authorities to report the murders?"

Warren leaned on the table, keeping his body language open, trying to emphasize sincerity. "I didn't know the men were actually dead when I left."

"But you said yourself, they didn't appear to be breathing." That was Jimmy again and Warren met his eyes.

"I didn't even know what species they were. Perhaps they don't breathe."

The large-nosed alien leveled a look at Warren that was decidedly unfriendly. "The most reasonable explanation for not contacting anyone is that either you or your companion committed the homicides and fled the scene hoping you left no evidence."

The Tchut's stare drilled into Warren and he held the eyes of his accuser with intensity. "Neither I or Ettwanae killed those men. You're looking in the wrong place!"

Schnoz held the look for many heartbeats, then leaned away with an expression Warren read as calculating. Another couple taps of the fingers. "Did you understand at the time that not reporting a crime is a crime in itself?"

"I really didn't stop to think about it."

Schnoz snorted, then eased in once again. "So we can add to your story that you decided to flee Tchutchka Centrus without reporting what had happened, even though you may have been leaving behind three dead bodies and were committing a crime in doing so?"

They had him on that one, might as well go with it. He sighed. "Yes, unfortunately I wasn't thinking clearly and ran. I accept responsibly that because of fear for myself and my travel companions, we left without alerting you."

"Seems to me you didn't think about a lot of things, Archangel." Schnoz's smirk said he was pleased he'd won the admission. "After you fled the scene, where did you go?"

Warren answered the question for the second time. "We met up with our friends and returned to the ship."

"Which was where exactly?"

Warren jerked inside. 'Fuck!' A detail he and Stjarmas'de hadn't discussed. What should he say? To reveal Volu was sitting outside of Im after having slipped through secure airspace would raise countless questions. "In orbit." He knew immediately it was the wrong answer.

"Archangel, every vessel in orbit at the time of the incident has been identified. None of those ships are linked to you. We found no passenger records of you or your three shipmates on any shuttle or ship manifest. Additionally, there is no record of an unidentified shuttle departure from ground to an orbiting ship that day. Do you wish to rethink your answer?"

"I do not. If there is no record of our ship, then the records are flawed." It was his only option at this point, as weak as it was.

"And now we can add either gross negligence by Tchut traffic control or very selective equipment malfunction to your list of unexplained circumstances?"

This was not going down the path Warren wanted. "I did not say that."

Schnoz feigned bewilderment. "But what other conclusion could there be? A conspiracy to delete those records perhaps?"

Warren did his best to look perplexed. "I will need to rely on your expertise to determine what happened. I'm at as much of a loss as you to explain the missing data."

"When did your ship leave orbit?"

"As soon as we were aboard."

The large-nosed alien shook his head. "And again, no records exist of your ship's request to leave orbit. Puzzling!"

Warren did the only sensible thing – remained quiet.

Jimmy broke the silence. "Did you comm Emperor Ztar about the incident?"

"No."

"Did you contact General Gtar-Cro? Anyone?"

Again with the repeated questions. They were trying to trip him up – a common interrogation technique, but it was really beginning to get under his skin. "No." More sharpness snuck into his tone than intended.

"_No_?" The tone was forced amazement. "A threat as ominous as you would have us believe and you don't comm the man responsible for your safety? Why would that be?"

"I thought we'd gotten away and that was the end of it." He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the dryness.

Schnoz and Jimmy were silent for an uncomfortably long time, which Warren was certain was the intent, hoping he'd feel compelled to fill the dead air with further explanations. He did not. Schnoz pushed back from the table leisurely, crossing his legs, contemplation crossing the flat features. "Archangel, where did you go after leaving Tchutchka?"

"We continued our search for clues to the U'larr civiliza-"

"I asked _where_, not what," the interrogator cut him off sharply.

"Thael."

Immediately, Jimmy worked the tabletop computer interface, likely requesting verification of their presence at Thael. There'd be no record of their ship in orbit around that planet either. A trickle of sweat made it presence known between Warren's wings.

"For what purpose?"

"Supplies."

"Anywhere else?"

Warren knew that answer would be a strike against him. Neu was a non-contact world, but he and Stjarmas'de agreed it would be worse to lie than admit breaking an Imperial order. "Neu."

"Neu? Haven't heard of it." Schnoz shot a look to Jimmy. The other officer continued tapping the computer controls. Schnoz got up and walked over to the other man and both scanned the privately displayed data.

Intrigue greeted Warren when Schnoz looked up. "Interesting revelations here. Thael for one. And then Neu. That's a restricted area. It's against Imperial interstellar law to be within that star system, Archangel." The tone was of mystification.

Warren nodded.

"It seems you are in a habit of ignoring the laws of our Empire," Jimmy observed coldly. "Perhaps you believe your position allows you to disregard such trivial considerations." The accusation was harsh.

An indicator tone announced another objection had been lodged. Schnoz read whatever was coming across the tabletop screen. Warren wished he could see it, but the angle was wrong. Schnoz seemed conflicted about whatever it said. Then he walked away from the table and remained silent for many long seconds.

"Neu is not that far away, Archangel. Why the delay in you returning here?"

"I was out of contact." Stjarmas'de had told him Tchut authorities were informed they were unable to reach him and uncertain where Archangel was at the time. It was the truth.

"Why?"

"Because what we were going to do was illegal."

"Going to Neu?"

"Yes."

"Who knew where you were going?"

"My shipmates."

"No one else?"

"No."

"Not even the man you shared a _bed_ with for nearly five standard years?"

Warren could have sworn the indicator tone sounded angry at the question. It matched Warren's ire at the impropriety, but he held emotions in check. The question was meant to provoke.

"Not even our Emperor," he responded flatly. His mouth was like cotton. He'd have to ask for water soon.

Jimmy took over again. "Who are your shipmates, Archangel; besides the Sat'reyan you call Ettwanae."

"Flint and Gatebi."

"Are those their full names?"

Warren would raise his own objection at that. "They have nothing to do with the incident."

Jimmy waved a hand in disagreement. "You are mistaken. You have admitted to the crime of leaving Tchutchka Centrus without reporting the incident. They accompanied you as you committed that crime. They are involved whether you wish them to be or not."

Warren waited, hoping to hear the objection tone. It remained silent.

"Archangel, must I repeat the question?"

"Lanic Reilly and Gatebi Eudara," he answered, swearing silently.

"Species?"

"Flint is Human and Gatebi is Alcab."

"Human? From Earth?" Warren nodded. "Your homeworld is a non-contact world. In fact, the penalties for intrusion into that system are some of the harshest I've seen outside of military restricted zones. How is it that Lanic Reilly came to be on your ship?"

"First, it is not _my_ ship. Second, they are friends of Ettwanae and were aboard when I joined them."

Jimmy locked eyes with Warren. "This Ettwanae, was she born on Sat'rey?"

"I don't know."

"How old is she?"

"She appears to be in her early twenties."

Schnoz began using his personal PI as Jimmy questioned Warren.

"What species is she?"

"She appears to be Sat'reyan." Again, the redundancy.

"_Appears_?"

"In a universe of image inducers, shapeshifters, and chameleons, I take little at face value."

"Where did you meet?"

"On Sat'rey." Warren was suddenly very glad Stjarmas'de decided to embellish the truth.

"Where?"

"The Imperial Palace." He was prepared to elaborate, but only if asked.

"Does she live on Sat'rey?"

"I'm not sure."

"Does she own the ship?"

"I don't know who holds title to the ship." Warren was growing more uncomfortable, and his nerves were ragged. He hoped Stjarmas'de would play the diplomatic card soon.

"Has she told you where she obtained her ship? Anything about her past?" Jimmy's tone was steadily more forceful. "Do you know _anything_ about this woman you're traveling with?"

'Time for a new approach,' Warren told himself. "I am answering your questions to the best of my ability and attempting to be helpful in your investigation. Do you wish me to make up answers that you like better than the truth?" He asked in feigned puzzlement.

"Of course not, Archangel," Schnoz stepped in. "but it is difficult to understand why a member of the Royal Court would go on a long-term archeological search with someone you know so little about."

"I trust her credentials and the security clearance MI gave her to be in attendance at the palace."

Suddenly, the rear door opened and the Magistrate motioned the two interrogators over to him. They exchanged whispered words. Likely, Stjarmas'de had enlightened Nzonzdri as to Ettwanae's diplomatic status. The interrogators did not appear pleased with the news.

The Magistrate disappeared, but the door remained open. 'Good sign?' He decided to take the opportunity to request a glass of water. His mouth was a desert and his stomach on the verge of audibly proclaiming its desire for food – breakfast was hours ago. "Would it be possible to have something to drink?"

Schnoz walked casually toward him. "We're nearly done, Archangel."

Warren took that as a no. He shifted uneasily, realizing how uncomfortable the chair was. "I do wish I could be of more assistance in solving the case. I am as puzzled by the situation as you."

Schnoz smiled condescendingly. "I'm sure you are. Out of curiosity, what is your- the ship's name?"

"Volu." He was sticking with his policy of the fewer the lies the better, less to remember.

Jimmy began working the interface again.

"What class? Or is that veiled in diplomatic secrecy as well?" The words held bite, but also revealed Stjarmas'de had played their trump card.

"Private."

"What I meant to ask was what body-type."

"It's a custom design."

Jimmy gave his partner a quick look and a slight hand gesture. Schnoz tilted his flat head and eyed Warren. "Strange that you are here and there is no record of a ship by that name in orbit or at any of the orbital stations. As puzzling as Thael Control having no record of a ship by that name ever requesting clearance." Schnoz said with a devilish grin. "Must be more mysterious malfunctions."

Suddenly, Nzonzdri was in the doorway again, Stjarmas'de at his heels. "That will be all for today," he announced tersely. Warren didn't miss the sharp look he shot his interrogators. Apparently, questions about the "diplomat's" ship were out of line.

Warren stood as the magistrate approached with a practiced smile. "Archangel, thank you for your cooperation. We azk that you remain reachable by comlink in the event we need to clarify any detailz while preparing our report." The official 'request' was gift wrapped in diplomacy.

He returned the smile, hoping to feign amicability as well as Nzonzdri. "As I told your investigators, I wish I could provide more insight into the unfortunate incident. However, the reputation of your investigators is reassuring. I'm certain you'll find the perpetrator and the reason those men attacked a member of Court who was visiting one of your fine purveyors." Warren wouldn't leave without reminding the law officer that it was he who was ambushed in broad daylight.

The slight clouding of the magistrate's face was the only indication that he fully understood all that Warren implied. Jharda's office could do a lot of damage if they chose to press the issue and turn the tables in the situation. To be known as the planet where a royal court member was accosted in a popular tourist district would not bode well for Im tourism. Thus far, Myrundra's department had not taken that low road.

"I azzure you that any crimez the men committed will not go unrecorded, even if their familiez prefer thoze indizcretionz remain undizclozed."

Stjarmas'de had briefly mentioned that the men's families had joined to seek significant damages as soon as Archangel's name was linked to the incident. Likely, they and their attorneys saw an opportunity to tap into the royal coffers, perhaps imagining a luxuriant lifestyle for the rest of their days. Warren thought it cynically amusing that ambulance-chasing lawyers resided off Earth as well.

The magistrate led the entourage back to the skimmer the two law officials exchanged practiced pleasantries. After promises of continued cooperation, Warren and his attorney stepped inside the vehicle.

"How'd it go in the back room?" Warren immediately questioned.

The man actually sighed, but Warren could not tell if it was one of relief or disheartenment. "Tense, but as well as could be expected. Nzonzdri rose to his position on skill. He senses pieces of your explanation aren't quite…complete."

"I can guess some of those parts involve my travel companions." Stjarmas'de moved his hand in agreement in a way that reminded him of Royal Master Gardener Moit'de, who was also native Sat'reyan. "Do you think he believes I'm innocent?"

Stjarmas'de's expression became more encouraging. "Actually, I think he does, but with a qualifier. He likely believes you are covering for the person who is not."

"Ettwanae."

Again the hand gesture. "Yes."

"Which leaves me as an accessory to murder."

"Or at a minimum, a witness to homicide in self-defense."

"She didn't do it, Stjarmas'de." Warren made sure his voice conveyed conviction. The reaction wasn't as he expected.

"Archangel, the lone figure at the head of the alley – you're certain there's nothing more you can provide?"

Warren studied the empire's highest-ranking attorney and guessed what the man was actually alluding to. "He is real, Stjarmas'de. I did not make him up. Ettwanae is not responsible for those deaths – I believe our mystery man killed them."

"Man?"

"A guess, by the voice, but no proof."

"They will push to talk with Flint and Gatebi and even more so Ettwanae, regardless of her diplomatic status. And when we deny that request, they will press for an explanation as to why."

Warren gave Stjarmas'de his I-have-total-confidence-in-your-extraordinary-skills smile. "I am certain an explanation is out there that they will accept; perhaps not happily, but that they will concede to."

Thirst was impossible to ignore and his stomach growled. "Any water around?" Warren looked to the lead guardsman – she indicated no. With great disappointment, he turned back to the lawyer. "What do you give as odds that we've avoided a Full Order?"

"You did well, Archangel, but we still have no solid evidence as to why you were confronted or that you were an innocent party. The Magistrate still has many questions. Why did those men approach you? How did they know you were there? What is the real reason you not report the attack? Where is the proof the men were Etagllot? Why would you go into a situation that you obviously felt was potentially dangerous and not be armed? Why is it that diplomatic immunity and Imperial secrets have so conveniently merged?" The Sat'reyan crossed his legs and sat back with a less than encouraging air. "The list goes on. I give our odds as even on avoiding a Full Order."

Warren let go of the tight restraint he'd held himself by the past few hours and exasperation overwhelmed him quickly. "What the hell! _We_ were the ones attacked. Ettwanae was hit. We are innocent. Why are they not letting this go?"

"You both are alive. Three others are dead. Your explanation is filled inexplicable actions and claims unsupported by evidence. Many questions. Few answers. Now we have thrown in diplomatic maneuverings and classified technology just to add fuel to their suspicions."

Warren sighed with fatigue and a sense of defeat. "They smell conspiracy."

"Likely. Magistrate Nzonzdri also has aspirations of rising higher within Planetary Security. Solving this case would be good for his career."

That worried Warren. "Is he crooked?"

Stjarmas'de shook his head firmly. "We found nothing to indicate that is the case. Our justice system has surprisingly little corruption. It exists in pockets, but considering the penalty is death with no appeal for any member of the legal system found guilty of such a crime, few legal professionals are motivated to risk it. Ztar is insistent that his courts be without reproach."

"What do we need on our side to have the charges dropped?"

"Ideally, an eye witness who saw everything and confirmed your story. Without that, then solid evidence to confirm the men were ordered by the Etagllot or someone else to kidnap or kill you." The lawyer sat forward to remove his formal over-jacket and get more comfortable. "Without either of those, we are left with picking apart their foundation for a Full Order one piece at a time."

Stjarmas'de went on to offer some encouragement – fleeing the scene of a crime could be dealt with diplomatically. If all other options failed, the families of the victims could be paid to go away, though it would create an undesirable precedent. "In fact," the counselor continued in summary, "we can dispense with all the surrounding issues one by one, leaving the core matter – the homicides."

"So three armed men can accost you in a dead-end alley, stun your companion, and it is not sufficient evidence the attackers intended harm?" Warren was dumbfounded.

Stjarmas'de shook his head. "Archangel, consider from their perspective. That is your version of events. They have no evidence to substantiate your explanation. All they have are five people in an alley with little to explain why three ended up dead."

Warren grimaced. The man was right. "If only we could pin the men to the Etagllot…it would help my case immensely." Stjarmas'de nodded once. Warren sighed as the weight of the situation pressed on his shoulders and gazed out the skimmer's window to the sky beyond the building tops, wings twitching involuntarily at the longing. What he wouldn't do for an hour of solitude in the air, but Tchutchka's hurricane force winds prevented that even if he had the time, which he did not. Ztar waited high above.

His fellow court member leaned toward Warren. "Do not give in to dire thoughts as yet, Archangel. The Empire is still a monarchy at its heart and its Emperor is the final authority, even under the new constitution. Ztar remains the ultimate voice in all matters. While it would shake the people's confidence in our government and the Court and cause a myriad of ramifications, I do not doubt our Emperor would wield that authority if it meant protecting you."

Warren studied the man carefully, but he was hard to read. Was Warren sensing disapproval? Deep concern? A warning? He couldn't be sure. What was clear was the undesirability of such an action. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

The counselor eased back into his chair with only a small wave of the hand in agreement.

Minutes later, they arrived at the spaceport and boarded Stjarmas'de's shuttle. With clearance for immediate departure, the craft lifted into the air even before Stjarmas'de and he got situated. Warren was beyond parched and immediately went to grab a container of water before taking a seat. It was then he noticed the man with a shock of deepest orange hair leaning against the bulkhead in the far corner of the roomy shuttle, arms crossed, and a familiar smirk on his face.

###

_A/N: Next time, who is the man in the shuttle? And just what does Ztar intend for his meeting with Warren? And a little incident comes to light that Warren was completely clueless about at the time, much to a certain orange-haired man's dismay. _


	37. Chapter 36

_A/N: Chapter 36 lightens the mood as it opens. One of my favorite minor characters returns to add a bit of humor. Tensions mount, though, when Warren and Ztar meet – hopefully, you'll enjoy their special brand of that! And poor Ettwanae, back on Volu, worrying as the former lovers meet. _

**Chapter 36**

"Gragne!" Warren exclaimed at seeing his former elite guardsman. The man he'd come to know more than casually pulled himself off the bulkhead.

"Archangel, sir. Good to see you again!" the man greeted with a huge smile.

"Cut the sir business," Warren admonished friendlily. "How have you been?" Warren felt instantly relaxed seeing the familiar face. He liked Gragne – had from their very first meeting.

"Quite bored since you left Sat'rey. Life was more…lively when you were at the palace."

Warren laughed. "Lively isn't the word I'd use. Would have preferred a more serene existence."

Gragne nodded in understanding. "And here you are back with us again, but only for a quick visit."

"You are correct. You assigned to me again?" Warren opened the water and took a long swig. He almost let out an 'ah-h-h-h-h' at the relief.

"While you're shuttling to and from the Mi-Lartui, I'm your man."

Warren took several more chugs and reveled in the cool, blessed wetness flowing down his arid throat. "Sorry – parched," he explained with a cock of the bottle. "Still working palace security then?"

"Yes indeed. Not much has changed, except I'm back watching the Emperor's royal behind now," the man teased. "Don't think for a minute I forgive you for abandoning me like so much space junk." The stern look didn't come across quite as effectively as Gragne probably hoped.

Warren chuckled. "It was time for me to go home. Life back on Earth beckoned."

Gragne snorted. "Not enough to keep you there from what I hear." The man leaned closer. "You don't need a highly-experienced-with-pay-to-match guard where you're going, do you?" he asked, voice hushed.

That surprised Warren. He shook his head. "If I do, you'll be the first to know. Are you looking for a new post?"

Gragne eased back. "Not actively, but if something more challenging comes along..." he let the rest hang with a slight shrug. "Keep it in mind. From what I've seen, you've gotten yourself in an odd bit of trouble. I think you should consider my offer."

Warren narrowed his eyes. "Did Ztar put you up to this? His way of keeping tabs on me?"

Gragne laughed boisterously, deep brown eyes twinkling. "Came up with it all by myself, Archangel. I'm bored. You're apparently not, least according to the comnet."

Warren grimaced. "I'd rather not know all the comnet is saying – sometimes naivety is a preferable state."

Gragne raised an orange-haired eyebrow at that, leaving Warren wondering about that bit of body language. He took a moment to study the alien who'd become a friend during his time on Sat'rey. Alcab's had no eyebrows, so that was Gragne's Turzent half. The guard was blended Turzent and Alcab and the contrast was striking. A thick head of bright orange hair that took its color from Alcab genetics, but the texture was Turzent and not at all unruly like Gatebi's. Dark brown eyes were flecked with gold, a Turzent characteristic, but a tan sclera, which was definitely Alcab. His stocky build was more akin to Alcab, but his height at over six feet was all Turzent. Gragne's skin tone leaned more to the olive side of brown than found in Alcabs. Warren refocused on their conversation.

"How are the rest of the guys…Lar, Ab?"

"Doing fine. Lar extends his greetings. Ab's assigned to Jharda now. He travels quite a bit following her around the Empire, though that will likely slow as the baby gets nearer."

"Yeah, I'm excited for her and Ztar."

Gragne waved a hand in agreement. "Who would have thought those two would become a couple after so many years working together? Guess matters of love can take mysterious turns."

The guardsman was giving Warren an odd look that told him the man had questions he wouldn't ask. "They're meant to be together, those two," he opinioned. "They go way back to their early military days. Sometimes love goes on hiatus until the timing is right. I think that was the case with Ztar and Jharda."

"They do appear very happy, but he still talks about you often, even around Jharda. It's obvious he wishes you'd never left." Gragne's face softened and his voice lowered. "Did anyone tell you how badly he reacted to your departure a year ago?"

Warren sucked in a breath. "No-o-o."

"He didn't come out of his chambers for days. Would talk to no one. Looked like he'd been dragged through the Pits of Pardian when he did finally emerge." The orange-crowned head shook slowly. "Even then, it was like he wasn't with us if you understand my meaning. That went on for a quite a while. Came out of it gradually. Now, though," Gragne smiled again and his voice was more voluminous, "he's walks around with a grin plastered on his face at even the suggestion of children. Unless you want a full dissertation on the ins and outs and nuances of Turzent pregnancy, don't ask how Jharda's been coping with her condition. And you'd think the man himself was bearing the child!"

They shared a good laugh over that.

"I think I'll have to ask just to hear him ramble on," Warren joked, but indeed curious to see that side of the man. "Anything new with you?"

Gragne crossed his arms and reassumed his previous position against the shuttle bulkhead. "Not really. One doesn't get much of a chance at a personal life in my position. Another reason I'm getting restless I guess. Time for me to think about what the future holds – can't be elite guard forever."

"Private security an option?" Warren took another swig of cool fluid. His thirst was being abated, but it did nothing to dull the hunger.

"That's what I'm leaning toward. I don't know anything but the protection business."

"With your credentials, it shouldn't be hard to find a position elsewhere – and one that pays well."

"That's the theory!" Gragne said with a quick grin.

"How's Lar? When I left there was a woman in Yaunra…"

"Now that, my friend, was an interesting situation. Turned out she was playing him along and was also involved with one of the diplomats over at the embassy estates. Lar was pretty devastated, though unless you knew him well, you couldn't tell. I think he may have actually fallen in love with her, poor guy."

"Cheating hearts are everywhere," Warren lamented with a shake of the head.

"How about you? Besides trekking around looking for long-dead races, anything new? Anyone special in _your_ life since the big guy?"

Warren felt his ears redden, totally unlike him. "Well…"

Gragne perked up. "It's someone on your ship, right?" The man didn't wait for confirmation. "I knew it! Told Ab there was more to things than you searching for some dusty artifacts of a long-dead race." Gragne looked very pleased with himself over his deductive skills.

One of the other guards approached. "Sirs, we'll be docking shortly."

Procedure required everyone be seated, so they grabbed a couple nearby spots. Warren draped his wings to either side being careful not to catch the feathers on any of the framework. His stomach decided to lodge a loud protest about its ignored condition and he shot a sheepish grin to Gragne. "Hungry."

"You? _Really_? Such a shock!" Gragne's teasing made Warren chuckle. "She has a name I assume?" The man pressed.

"Ettwanae – and it's nothing certain. There is mutual attraction, but…" Warren flinched inwardly. 'Way to downplay, Worthington!'

"Don't wait too long, Archangel. But it does appear you have a plan… the famous companion turned archeological sleuth pursuing more than secrets of the past." A snicker followed.

'Companion.' Warren rolled the word around, letting the associated feelings rise. He was mildly surprised when he realized all the hurtful and humiliating connotations that had accompanied the term for years no longer tainted it. So much had changed.

"Right now I'm afraid that's _infamous_." He sighed audibly at the frustrating turn of events while glad for a chance to change the subject away from Ettwanae. "The situation has everyone working overtime to save my ass," he said shaking his head and unconsciously flicking the wings. "Makes me angry just thinking about the time and energy waste going into this fiasco."

Warren felt a gentle bump as the shuttle set down. Everyone else immediately stood up even though the shuttle door remained closed. 'Amazingly like passengers on commercial airplanes back home,' he compared humorously.

Gragne waved a dismissive hand. "Hey, I've seen worse things fade away than this Tchut bullshit. The gossips and news snoops get tired of a story and move on to fresher prey. If they can't find something, they contrive it. Just like with the Ennovy-Eiram reception, if you recall. Though I guess in retrospect…" Gragne let the sentence dangle.

Warren raised his eyebrows at the odd reference as they rose. "You mean the most recent reception?"

"I do. Had the comnet waves pulsing for days!" Gragne headed toward the opening hatch. "Though not exactly the kind of attention everyone wanted. You handled it well I must say."

Warren was puzzled. He'd bowed out of the affair, and Ztar ended up taking Jharda at Warren's urgings. What had he missed? No one had said anything afterward that he could recall. "What do you mean?" he said, quick to stay on Gragne's heels as the guard moved toward the exit.

The man stopped in mid-stride and his head snapped back around to face Warren. "_What_?"

"What happened at the reception?"

The Alcab/Turzent turned to face Warren fully with a dead-serious expression. "Archangel, tell me you're jesting."

Now Warren was leery. "About…?"

"Archangel, repeat after me: 'Gragne, I'm joking. I know all about that little situation.' " The odd request came in a near whisper.

Warren frowned as Stjarmas'de and his entourage moved past to leave the craft at Gragne's insistent wave of an arm to go around, overriding protocol that said everyone should wait for both Stjarmas'de and Warren to exit. "Gragne, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Archangel, do me a favor. When I turn you over to Ab, anything he says, go with it. Just like you know _all_ about that…incident."

"I repeat, Gragne, what are you _talking_ about?" he protested as the man steered him by the elbow toward the exit to bring up the rear of the exodus.

"Just do it – your reputation and mine is at stake. Drinks. After Ztar. Main lounge. Be there."

"But-"

"Just do it. I'll explain later," he hissed in Warren's ear, pulling him down the ramp.

"But-"

"Emperor's waiting, blue-eyes."

"Bl-blue-eyes? What the hell-?" was all Warren got out before they hit the bottom of the shuttle ramp and abruptly facing Ab. Warren resettled his wings that had somehow spread without permission and then tried to collect the rest of himself.

Abmirzarcz, or Ab as some called him, was giving them a very odd look, probably because Gragne had practically dragged Warren down the ramp. The elite guardsman was from Tchutchka Centrus but far from pureblood Tchut. Ab had a few of the characteristics as the flat-bodied species, but was much more 'inflated' and sans the extra limbs. What made up the rest of his genetic goulash Warren could only guess – a good measure of Turzent for certain from the robust build and black-crimson hair, maybe a pinch of Ozjaerian from the slight orange-tinged skin and four-digit hands, and perhaps a dash of Sat'reyan from the large, coal-black eyes. Some unknown ancestor provided the nose that was more of a snout. All combined, Ab was a truly unique individual, but Warren had matters demanding his focus, none of which included the man's lineage.

"Archangel, a pleasure to see you again, sir. Gragne being his usual reticent self?" The man's mouth turned up just slightly at the corners with the sarcasm, but other than that, the stance was all business.

Before Warren could even open his mouth, Gragne jumped in. "He's all yours, Ab. Just make sure I'm notified as soon as their business is concluded. I'm to escort him planetside." Then Gragne gave Warren another quick, expressive shot that said, 'I'm beggin' here, man,' as he followed the others through the bay toward the exit.

Warren wanted to ask why Gragne couldn't take him up, but it really didn't matter. Confused and feeling off-kilter, Warren pulled his eyes from Gragne's quickly retreating form to meet Ab's intense stare.

"Are you well, Archangel?"

"Ahhh, fine. I'm good. And you?" He struggled to regain mental footing. 'What the hell was that all about?'

"The Emperor is waiting – quite impatiently, I'm told. After you, sir." Ab indicated for Warren to proceed with a quick hand flick and then followed close by his side as they moved toward the hangar exit.

"How's the family, Ab? Your sister's child must be…how old now?" He remembered some of the details from their conversation during Warren's solo mountain retreat on Sat'rey. Ab had nearly gushed enthusiasm for his one and only nephew.

"He's nearly two imperial years now and growing like a dreit cub! Monzie can't keep up with him."

Warren recalled that was the sister's name. "If only we could have some of that youthful energy," he joked.

Ab gave him a quick grin and nod. "Speaking of energy, I understand you're clicking off the sectors on a regular basis these days. Comnet says you're searching for U'larr artifacts?" There was mild surprise in the tone. They passed through the bay door and stopped in front of the lift. Ab palmed the bio-sig control.

"A new pursuit of mine. The race caught my interest when I first learned of the Esserru and U'Larr legends six years ago. It was kind of a natural curiosity," he added a ruffle of his wings for emphasis. It was a stretch, but close enough to the truth and echoed the official statements Stjarmas'de shared with him that Jharda's office issued in response to the Tchutchka incident.

They waited for the lift, which was obviously busy elsewhere. "Not always sure what to believe on the net. Sometimes what's passed off as fact is not so factual." Warren nodded in agreement – nothing new. "Reminiscent of the Ennovy-Eiram reception – now _that_ was an interesting interpretation by the comnet rumorists."

Ab was giving Warren a sideways glance that contrasted the nonchalant tone. 'What's up between Gragne and Ab?' If Warren's curiosity hadn't been heightened before, it was now soaring. Oh, how he wanted to ask what the second elite guardsman was talking about! But he decided to toss his loyalty to Gragne – they'd known each other longer.

"Part of their job, I guess. Repeat simple opinion until it somehow morphs it into well-known fact," he replied with generality tapping into his experience with the gossip news on Earth. When you're a billionaire, an undeniably handsome bachelor, and known mutant, you're what sells paparazzi shots and newspaper columns.

Ab shifted from one foot to the other, clasping hands behind his back. Warren continued to stare at the elevator door for any sign of movement.

Turning to face Warren directly, Ab's face became one of absolute neutrality. "Yes, one must rise above the idle gossip. Still, irritating when people blatantly suggested what they did about our Emperor. I know it infuriated many palace staff." Ab was scrutinizing every nuance of Warren's reaction; right down to the errant twitch in left his wing he wasn't able to suppress. "Of course, we all know to not give credence to such things by bantering it around. Everyone handled the situation with perfect decorum, I must say – almost as if they weren't _aware_."

Warren nodded while feeling the gaze of Abs black eyes burn into the side of his head. He was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. What the _hell_ were Ab and Gragne talking about that no one had mentioned before? Why now after all this time? Was something dragged up by recent news coverage?

"Naturally, all such nonsense was quickly filtered out of the palace news feeds and most everyone quickly forgot about it."

'What the _fuck_?' Warren feigned a disinterested sigh in diametric opposition to his internal state. "Good to hear."

Ab faced the unmoving door once again. "I suppose being Royal Court, you develop a certain immunity to media speculation and sensationalism."

'Jesus, what's taking the damn elevator so long!' Warren risked turning to Ab. "I'm used to it more from Earth than anything. You learn to ignore it or it'll drive you crazy."

"That's what Gragne said." The man left it at that, but looked out of the corner of his eye in Warren's direction.

The door slid silently open and Warren hurried inside. "Deck 2." He began to debate whether to interrogate Ztar over the Ennovy-Eiram affair. Then again, if someone happened at the big shindig that Ztar felt needed to be blocked from palace broadcast, he may not appreciate the topic. Perhaps another approach.

"So what was your take on it, if you don't mind my asking?" Sometimes, an angel's got to tread where even fools dare to tiptoe.

"Hyperbolic sensationalism to sate the viewing public's unconscious desire to see the exalted in a gaucherie predicament that descends them from the realms of pseudo gods to that of the common masses."

Warren blinked, thinking for a split second Ab had been replaced by Hank McCoy. "Huh," he replied out of a habit that he'd formed years ago when Beast would flaunt his vocabulary virtuosity. And Warren had to admire the man's deadpan expression. The inquiry had gotten him exactly nowhere. "And from your perspective, what likely sated that desire most?" Warren could be tenacious as well as foolhardy.

A small smile crept across Ab's features as the lift door opened onto the Imperial deck. The guard waited for Warren to exit before replying. "I leave conjecturing to those more intimately involved."

Warren felt that there was at minimum a two-edge meaning to that response, which did nothing but further inflame his already raging curiosity. Warren was running out of time as they headed toward Ztar's suite.

"Often, someone removed from the situation can give a more balanced perspective. Humor me if you would, Ab." Last try.

Ab was silent for way too many paces. They were nearly at Ztar's door. "Archangel, I will say this," Ab began as he placed a hand on the security pad to the imperial chambers. "The images will likely be replayed for years whenever the appropriate occasion presents itself."

The door slid open. 'Damn!'

"Archangel!" Ztar's deep voice reverberated with delight.

###

She was worried. Sick-to-her-stomach worried. Volu informed her as soon as a familiar ship appeared on sensors – a vessel she recognized from Hydeera. During that encounter, Volu put the pieces together and determined the standoffish ship hovering between the second and third planets was indeed the empire's highest-ranking vessel.

A few hours ago, that same vessel and its escort dropped into extended orbit around Tchutchka Centrus and the Emperor was likely in residence. Now Volu had explained that Warren boarded a shuttle heading to said ship. It added up to a nerve-racking situation. The former lovers would be together. Considering Warren was soulbound to the Empire's ruler… Ettwanae shuddered. She knew the power of soulbinding. That Volu classified Warren's bond to the Turzent as false mattered little. Aru and Ura would join forces to draw Warren and Ztar together and be merciless in their demand for a mating after the weeks-long separation. That was the way of soulbounds.

She countered herself that Warren had left the Turzent twice before. She reasoned the Emperor apparently had taken a mate. Ettwanae rationalized Warren, if not Ztar as well, would respect the relationship. She argued Warren cared for _her_ now; at least he said he did. She attempted to convince herself that Warren was strong…strong enough to resist…stronger than the pull of Aru and Ura.

It wasn't working.

"Oh, Volu. What happens if _it_ happens? Won't that just reinforce the bond all over again? What if he decides to stay with Ztar?"

"Warren left Ztar before, he will do so again." Volu sounded convinced.

"But how many times can he do that?"

"As many times as necessary, my Poda."

"But the pull will be strong after the long separation!" The doubts wouldn't let go.

"That didn't stop him from leaving Sat'rey just two months ago."

"He _is_ strong, isn't he?" she feigned belief.

"He is, perhaps in part because the bond is not as powerful as a true soulbinding."

That was something to latch on to – a weak bond. She pulled her knees up tight against her chest and formed an isolating cocoon with her wings. Burying her head inside the whiteness, she prayed for Ozshi'wanae to give her soulbound-to-be strength. "Please," she whispered her plea from beneath the feathers.

###

Volu watched Ettwanae disappear within her white shroud, and she hurt for her Other. Volu worried, too, about Warren, but for a reason Ettwanae did not know. Had he managed to untangle himself from the mess that Tchutchka Centrus had become? Volu wasn't certain if she should be encouraged by Warren's trip to the Emperor's flagship or concerned. Had the inquisition gone well or otherwise? There was little to be done but wait for Warren's return. _If_ he returned.

Ettwanae, though, was nearly distraught over a simpler matter. Warren had taken his PI. Volu had long ago deciphered the communications and security codes for the device. She could direct-link if she desired. Volu decided. If Warren stayed aboard the Emperor's vessel too long, she would attempt to reach him. And if her incessant signal interrupted something more than talking, all the better.

###

The door slid close on Ab as Ztar took Warren into a bear hug, nearly lifting him from the floor. Ztar's chambers smelled wonderfully of food and his mouth started watering. As the embraced lingered, Warren scanned the room – he spied the table set for only two.

"Good to see you to, Ztar," Warren managed around the breath-robbing squeeze by the far stronger man. "Do I get to see the mother-to-be as well?" he asked hoping she'd be present.

Ztar released his hold and pushed Warren back gently to arm's length to examine him. "She is attending to duties on Bast."

Warren was puzzled. "But Ab's here – isn't he assigned to Jharda?"

"Temporarily reassigned to me while one of my guards is off." The Turzent did a quick up-and-down assessment. "You look tired."

Warren snorted. "Lengthy interrogations will do that to you."

"Stjarmas'de told me you performed well." Ztar dropped his hands.

"You 'pathed him?" Warren guessed.

Ztar nodded. "I will learn more later. Sukja is handling the debriefing. I wanted to see you and don't wish to spoil our visit by talking of that _ludicrous_ situation," the man said with obvious disdain.

Warren's stomach rumbled at that moment and Ztar cocked an amused eyebrow. Sighing deeply in resignation, Warren knew what was likely coming. "Yes, Ztar, I'm hungry. Famished in fact."

"I would be surprised if you weren't!" the Turzent chuckled. "Hence, our meal awaits."

Warren moved around Ztar in a beeline to the liquor cabinet. "I need a drink first. Join me?" he asked with a backward glance around a wing. The man gestured yes. "Things went as good as could be expected according to Stjarmas'de. Hopefully, this 'ludicrous situation' will soon be over."

No other words were spoken as Warren poured two glasses of Dison, but he felt Ztar's eyes the whole time. It was almost a physical touch – down the back of his neck, across the shoulders, sliding the length of the wings… He clamped down quickly on where those sensations were leading. He was _really_ wishing Jharda were on board. 'Coincidence that she's not?' he wondered, hoping Ztar was more honorable than that. 'There will not, I repeat NOT, be a replay of several weeks ago,' he told himself in no uncertain terms. He turned to face Ztar, drinks in hand.

"I'm sure I don't have to ask if you're ready to eat," the man grinned mischievously as he headed toward the kitchen area. "The food is in the warming compartment."

"Smells wonderful!" Warren salivated as he inhaled the delicious aromas wafting in the air. "And _why_ does everyone feel the need to poke fun at my _slightly_ enhanced appetite?" he lamented, handing a glass to the Turzent as Ztar moved past. "Gragne hit me not five minutes after I boarded the shuttle!"

"Some things are just as they are, Archangel." Ztar smirked before taking a quick sip of the sweet/fiery liqueur.

They made fast work of pulling out the food and settling at the table. Warren wasted no time digging in.

With a bemused expression, Ztar watched Warren inhale several forks full of food. Warren considered asking if Ztar was being adequately entertained, but speaking would have slowed down the eating.

Finally picking up his fork and selecting a morsel, Ztar spoke. "How goes the quest? Any new clues? Have you found anything? Any _unusual_ happenings?"

Warren stopped chewing and looked into the dark chocolate eyes. Something unspoken was there. "We've made progress and have a new lead. And by unusual, I might as well be the one to tell you we violated a restricted area around a non-contact world – Neu. Sorry, but we had no choice. We did acquire a couple important artifacts as a result, though."

Ztar set his utensil down and held Warren's gaze. "Did you run into any troubles? Aside from Tchut, of course."

Warren studied Ztar closely. Part of him wanted to share what he and Ettwanae had done on Neu, but he felt obligated to keep details about her to himself. Just as he wouldn't share what he'd learned about the secondary lifeforce he carried being Ztar's. "Tchut was enough excitement for me," he dodged, then stuffed in another mouthful of food.

Ztar rested his arms on either side of this plate. "You know you can tell me anything – it will remain between us."

Warren felt certain Ztar was holding back. 'But what?' He nodded. "I know, but those I'm with are cautious about revealing too much," he admitted truthfully.

"I'd like to help, Archangel. I offer vast resources." The Turzent leaned in. "If you run into a dangerous situation, I can protect you."

'Is he fretting over Tchut, the Etagllot, something else?' Again, Warren was left wondering. "Thanks, Ztar, but we can defeat ourselves."

"I believe you can."

It was a bit of an odd statement and he sent the man an inquisitive look, but Ztar's eyes were on his plate. Something was going on beneath the surface and Warren had an unmistakable feeling that Ztar had another question he wanted to ask or something more to say, but was refraining for some reason.

Warren decided to plunge in to what Gragne warned him about. "So, how is Jharda's pregnancy going?"

That was all it took. The man's face brightened to such a level Warren thought he should have brought his Ray Bans. What came next was a detail by too-much-information detail of every nuance of the Turzent pregnancy experience, right down to the growth of a something called a birthing claw on Jharda's left index finger. Warren didn't really want to know any more, but Ztar picked up on his bewilderment.

"They use that to cut the fetal sack during birthing," Ztar explained with a look of admiration for the female of his species.

"I had no idea!" Warren gave his best I-share-your-awe look while trying hard not to hold to the conjured images while eating.

"And if it's not done at the right time, the birthing stalls and that can cause the baby great stress. A woman has to know what she's doing. I've made sure Jharda has the best birthing master available. No need to take unnecessary risks our first time."

Ztar elaborated while Warren chewed on the delicate meat entrée. Whatever is was, it was quite good, and vaguely familiar. Its subtle sweetness reminded him of lobster, but the texture was creamier. Then it hit him. 'Ha! This is sweet sea meat from Alcab,' he realized, amused at the coincidence.

"Did you know that birthing takes as little as 30 tonis? One must be prepared, Archangel. Things can go very quickly."

Warren shook his head. "I hadn't a clue!" he replied with appropriate surprise, then stabbed piece of some kind of plant matter he didn't recognize. A tonis was the Sat'rey equivalent of a minute and 30 of them translated to roughly 45 minutes in Earth time.

"It is truth! Now that I know, we will have the birthing master at Jharda's side at all times the last weeks. Of course, on average, birthing takes two to three tona. That is more typical for a first child." The Emperor clarified with an authoritative tone.

Equating tona to hours, and he got the general idea. "That's fast."

"Indeed. Our species is quite efficient in most things, reproduction included. Most other species seem to have a longer gestational period than Turzents, Archangel. Some carry their young more than an imperial _year_." The man seemed quite amazed by that. "And I've learned that in some species, birthing is very painful. Can you imagine? Why would that possibly be? Makes no sense from species continuation standpoint."

Ztar was looking at him as if to provide the answer. He swallowed quickly. "I agree, but have no explanation." Warren really wished the conversation would move to a topic more conducive to dining. "So-o-o, how's the rest of the Empire holding up under the stress of a pending royal heir?" He joked. Ztar jerked slightly, then narrowed his eyes, leaning forward. Warren cringed. '_Mistake!_'

"Archangel, having a child is serious business and not to be taken lightly. Jharda and I face years of careful decisions and child rearing challenges. In addition to normal parental concerns, we must prepare the child as our future ruler. I shouldn't have to tell you the complexity that adds to our situation. Under ordinary circumstances, raising a child is a daunting undertaking; let alone what Jharda and I face."

Warren put up his hands in surrender. "Sorry, Ztar! It wasn't my intent to trivialize." He apologized at the abashment. "It _is_ a big responsibility, but I can't think of two people more capable of raising healthy, happy child who just so happens to be our future emperor. You and Jharda will be fabulous parents."

The father-to-be's face softened. "Thank you. I'm pleased you understand the immenseness of the task, especially since Jharda and I have decided to ask you to be the child's vauntu." A huge smile broke across the Turzent's face.

Warren stopped chewing and raised his eyebrows. "Vauntu?"

Ztar set his utensils down and leaned back in the chair. "Only if you're willing. It's a responsibility that some do not wish to take upon themselves. If you'd rather not, there is no dishonor and we will not be offended."

Warren swallowed hoping the meal wasn't over – he was far from full. "Excuse my ignorance, but what is a vauntu?"

"It is a mentoring role. Each vauntu ensures that a specific aspect of the child's upbringing is performed in accordance with the teachings of Vaun. Vaun was a great Turzent philosopher, warrior, and spiritual leader. He established the guidelines for what makes a civilization thrive. Three vauntus are assigned to a child – one for the body, one for the mind, and the third for the soul. Jharda and I would like you to be our child's soul guide."

Warren was stunned. "Ztar, I'm flattered, but I know nothing of your religious customs."

"This has nothing to do with religion."

"Then I'm misunderstanding." He had been imagining a godparent-like role; helping a child live within their faith.

Ztar leaned forward, arms resting on the table; an expression of deep earnest on his face. "The body vauntu guides a child in building a strong, fit body. They also watch over to ensure he or she receives training in the warrior arts. A vauntu of the mind focuses on the child's mental development to maximize cognitive potential. Soul vauntus provide guidance in areas such as self-expression and nurturing the inner self. They assist the child in building healthy relationships and learning empathy. Vauntus work as partners with the parents in raising a fully balanced child, healthy in body, mind, and soul."

Warren was even more taken aback by the request. It was obviously both an honor and a huge responsibility…one in which the vauntu should nearby to perform. Warren didn't exactly live next door. "Ztar," he started softly, "I am humbled and honored that you and Jharda think me capable of such a role. If I lived on Sat'rey, it is something I would consider despite feeling that you see in me more ability in the area of soul health than I possess. I am woefully under qualified, and the distances are too great for me to do right by your child. He or she needs someone who's physically nearby."

Ztar studied him awhile before replying. "I know of no one more qualified. Look what you accomplished in me!" Warren started to protest, but Ztar put up a hand to halt him. "You can argue the point, but you will not change my mind. You guided me in the healing of my soul. And I felt your deep peacefulness during your recent visit to Sat'rey – you have also healed your own spirit. Who better for our child to call upon should they feel soul pain? I don't know how you did what you did for me, but it was a miracle. I want our child to know you, to be comfortable reaching out to you. I want my child to have my…Esserru in his life."

"But I'm not-" Warren began his usual argument, but Ztar cut him off.

"Maybe you aren't Esserru biologically, but you are in spirit. You touch parts of the soul with something that defies definition. That is what I've come to conclude. That is what I want for my child."

Warren cocked his head at the ruler of the Turzent Empire. The man was still convinced that Warren was responsible for his transformation from internally tortured, selfishly sadistic, and outwardly harsh to a gentle, loving man and benevolent ruler. Warren would only go as far as accepting that he was a catalyst. Ztar was the one who really performed the miracle.

"But there's more to it than just being there if your child is troubled, right? What about all the time in-between?"

"We'll have teachers for that. What we'd like you to be is someone outside our child's daily life – someone he will view as having a detached and impartial perspective and not tangled in the complexities of life as a royal, yet still acquainted enough with that to understand its burdens."

"I still don't think I'm your best choice, Ztar. I'm just…not…enough…" God, he was stammering, groping for the right words. "I'd love to be what you want to be, that's not it. I fear it won't turn out right. I'll be off on Earth or who knows where, never there when I'm needed. I just feel you need someone who lives on Sat'rey. The child won't reach out to someone he or she rarely sees and barely knows." Then Warren wondered. "You said he. Is the baby a boy?"

Ztar eased back and grabbed up his Dison. "We're letting that be a surprise. The doctors know, of course, but we've vowed them to secrecy. Do you realize how hard it is for me not to peek in their minds? It's a concerted effort to block myself from myself!" He chuckled.

Warren laughed as well, knowing from other telepaths what a challenge that can be at times. The laughter help shift the mood just enough that Warren relaxed about the vauntu topic. "Ztar, do this. Have an official soul vauntu – someone who's nearby. Then let me play a more unofficial role – kinda like the uncle who really isn't a blood relative."

The dark-brown eyes searched his. Despite the shared years, Warren wasn't certain what he was seeing in those orbs. Acceptance? Sadness? Disappointment? All of the above?

Finally, the man spoke. "Very well. While I understand your hesitations, I still believe you would be the perfect vauntu if only because once you take on a responsibility, you commit yourself to it. I would never have worried whether or not you were fulfilling your role." The smile that followed was of admiration and love. "I'd hoped, too, Archangel, that being vauntu would give you reason to visit and stay active in our lives."

A 150-watt light bulb went off. Perhaps this whole vauntu thing wasn't only for the child's sake. Suddenly, some very familiar warmings began in certain body regions. Was Ztar projecting? Warren snatched up his Dison and took a deep draw.

"It's settled then, yes?" The Turzent nodded. "Onto other subjects. Anything new on the imperial front? Etagllot? Mennisa? Mygra? Commonwealth?" Warren hoped if he threw enough potential topics out there, any amorous thoughts would be buried.

Food, drink, and conversation flowed for the next hour, but so did an undercurrent of sexual tension. When stress-induced fatigue starting catching up with him, Warren felt it time to depart the Emperor's company. "Time for me to head back to Tchutchka, Ztar. Ettwanae and the others wait."

"So soon?" Sincere disappointment filled Ztar's face.

Warren rose. "Afraid so. I have to make a quick stop in the lounge to say good-bye to Gragne, then I'll need a shuttle to return to the surface.

A less than happy expression floated across the face as Ztar sighed and rose. "If you must..."

"I do, Ztar." Sadness swept over Warren and he found himself not wanting to leave. Was he picking up on Ztar's emotions or was something at work? "I'll stay in touch, Ztar, I promise. We'll always be friends. And thank you for everything you are doing about this Tchut mess. I'm very grateful."

"I would do anything for you." Ztar's eyes were misty, but also full of that old look. Warren sensed Ztar trying to hold himself in check, but the sexual charge in the atmosphere only intensified. He shuddered as his body responded to the stimulus…hands grew clammy, heart sped up. Warren wondered again if Ztar was projecting either consciously or otherwise. 'Best make a hasty exit.'

"Gives my best to Jharda."

He started to the door, Ztar close behind. Suddenly, his PI chimed a message signal. "Who?" Grabbing the PI from its waist clip to retrieve the unexpected missive, he continued diligently toward the exit. Sweaty palms betrayed him and the PI slipped and he came to an abrupt halt as he juggled to recapture the device.

Ztar literally ran into him from behind, hands caught up in wings. Desire exploded in spontaneous combustion at the contact snatching Warren's breath and kicking his heart rate into overdrive. The empathic Turzent was quick to slide an arm around Warren's abdomen. Warren's PI dropped to the floor.

'O-o-oh, god!' He shuddered, closing his eyes against the flashover of scorching sexual heat Aru/Ura released. He was immobilized, unable to move any part of his anatomy. Until, that is, a tremor raced through Ztar and Warren's body responded with a will of its own to press itself into Ztar's groin.

/ _Archangel._ /

The single word slipped into his mind – his old name, the only name Ztar had ever called him – was heavy with longing. Another wave of craving engulfed him. 'Touch me. Touch me everywhere…god, please…' the needful part of Warren begged…the part that had endured the inability of him and Ettwanae to satisfy desire. He moaned in the want to meld with the man whose lifeforce was entwined with his own; who could take him to rapturous heights.

'No, Worthington! Remember Jharda. Ztar's not free. Pull away now before it's too late,' he commanded himself, but the need was too great. Only once in the past year had he been completely satisfied in bed – his recent visit to Sat'rey for the trial when he and Ztar sated their mutual lust for most of one glorious night. Intense memories of euphoric ecstasy seductively entwined themselves around and through him. Then conscious intruded sharply. 'Ettwanae! Remember her? She'll be devastated if she finds out. You care her, don't you? Prove it!' Scruples challenged aching need.

"Ztar, I- we- can't…" Warren stammered as urges that reached to his soul nearly stole his objection as a hand slid lower on his abdomen. Arousal heightened. Wings quivered.

Ztar nestled his head between a wing and Warren's ear. "Archangel…my beautiful Archangel." The whispered words were like warm honey on his neck. The Turzent hadn't referred to him as "_my_ Archangel" since that amazing night. He imagined Ztar saying "my Jharda" instead. It was her place to be in Ztar's arms, not Warren's. She was carrying Ztar's child. He focused on that to rein in the wanton lust.

"Ztar, we're both spoken for. This…this can't happen." He tried to put conviction into his voice, but knew the telepathic empath likely saw through the protest. Warren hadn't the strength to disentangle their bodies...his wanted Ztar's too strongly.

/ _It can. Jharda understands what is between us,_ / the man countered in sensual mental tones.

Skillful fingers made their way to a wing base and massaged as only Ztar knew how. Delicious licks of sexual fire ran straight from wing to groin and would have sent Warren to his knees if the powerful arm weren't encircling his waist. Warren moaned and trembled. 'S-shit! Can't do this.' Bliss washed over him again as Ztar continued his seductive stroking. 'Dear god, but I want to…'

Hanging on to images of Jharda and Ettwanae, Warren summoned his willpower. With a shaky hand, he grabbed the arm locked around his waist and pulled, but Ztar's superior strength prevented success. "Ettwanae does not. I can't do this to her."

The PI chimed from the floor.

In a quick move Warren didn't try to avoid, Ztar captured Warren's fingers in his. He was now completed ensnared by the Turzent, one arm pinned to his side, and the opposite hand held firmly by his former lover's, their bodies even more tightly together. Ztar's arousal pressed against where things were headed. It felt _so_ right. A shaky groan escaped as Warren desperately fought the burning hunger that was so very close to overtaking him by firestorm.

Ztar ground against him. A kiss and a nip to the ear. Warren inhaled sharply. Lips brushing the nape of his neck sent shivers from head to toe. The room spun. 'God, help me…'

"You are Royal Court. It is your right to claim another bedmate. Claim me as I claim you." Ztar's invitation slid salaciously into his ear, breath hot on Warren's cheek.

Warren shuddered as body and soul grew increasingly desperate for the pleasures the Turzent could bestow. To feel the gifted hands run over him and titillate all the right places, to taste Ztar's mouth, to tremble in delight as fingers drew tantalizingly down through feathers. For Ztar to move within him, bring him to blinding orgasm, and then drown in the passionate energy they could conjure together. He ached for the man. Warren wanted Ztar. Warren needed Ztar. The man was part of him – part of his soul, his Ura. Two lifeforces bound together and that binding was demanding a joining. 'But Ura is more than that, Worthington,' he reminded himself. 'It is also free will. You have a choice, flyboy!'

"I- I can't," was all he could manage.

Ztar released Warren's hand and seductively glided it over his abdomen to Warren's groin, but stopped just short of the goal. Another needful groan escaped without consent. Breaths came in pants when he could breathe at all.

"You can. Claim the right of your position. Let me make you burn as only I can."

Warren leaned his head back into Ztar's broad chest. 'Aaagh! I want this. Do I allow myself the indiscretion?' Every fiber of his being wanted to say yes, but Ettwanae's beautiful face came to him. He latched onto the image like a drowning man. 'She trusts you, bastard. Can't betray her.' He imagined the soft touches of her fingertips, the deep blue of her eyes, the fullness of her breasts, her warm breath, and taste of her lips. She loved him and maybe he was close to loving her. Ztar couldn't happen.

Another chime from the floor.

Steeling himself in determination, he pulled away with all his strength. Surprisingly, Ztar let him go. 'Eavesdropping?' he wondered of the telepath.

Separation felt like a Velcro rip, leaving Warren dizzy. A couple deep breaths and he turned to lock eyes with the man he still desperately wanted atop and inside him. "I will not betray Ettwanae no matter how much I want to crawl into bed with you. I couldn't face her or myself if I did."

"It is not betrayal, Archangel. It is your right and moral prerogative. You are Royal Court. She should accept that as part of who you are. Just as Jharda understands my choice to be with you if opportunity presents itself."

With that, Ztar reached out more quickly than Warren believed the man could move and pulled him to the muscular chest. Arms enveloped him, one hand finding the sweet spot on a wing. The result was brilliant in its intensity. Warren grabbed the broad shoulders hard, and rested his forehead against the base of Ztar's neck and hung on, sucking in air as his body went from merely searing to molten. Arousal pressed against arousal. A moan bordering on whimpering echoed the tremors of his wings. Another massage of the erogenous zone and his feathered appendages spread wide of their own accord, inviting more of the same. If not for Ztar's firm embrace, Warren would be on the floor, weak legs unable to hold him.

"God, I want you!" he wished into the broad chest in a choked voice, never intending to verbalize the thought.

"I know you do. I feel your need. Let it happened, my Archangel."

Warren tightened his grip. He was desperate to take the Turzent's mouth in a savage kiss, to taste him again, entwine their tongues, nip lips… He shook his head. 'No, no, _no_!' he commanded himself firmly. Fighting with every bit of self-control he could muster, he managed to hold himself together, but the effort cost him physically and he trembled from head to toe to wing tip.

A chime sounded.

"P-please. I- I can't do this." Warren forced the words out and then risked upturning his face to plead into the brown eyes. "Don't make this harder, Ztar, I'm begging you."

The alien said nothing for many heartbeats, his eyes searching Warren's. He suspected Ztar was reading him empathically, maybe even telepathically. The lust burning hot in the dark eyes nearly broke his slim hold on determination. Finally, the ruler of the vast Turzent Empire and Warren's former captor and then magnificent lover became as straight as a rod, gently released him, and stepped back. Warren nearly collapsed on wobbly knees, but the distance between their bodies provided instant, albeit partial relief from the carnal urges.

"I will honor your wishes, Archangel of the Royal Court of Ztar," he began using Warren's formal title in a show of respect. "But know this. I have felt your desire. I know your unmet need. Why that should be the case if you share a love with Ettwanae, I do not understand. What I do understand all too well is what sexual barrenness can do to one's soul. Should you decide those needs must be sated, come to me. Let me give you what she apparently cannot. If she loves you, she will allow it for your sake."

He couldn't imagine that would be the case. Ztar's moral compass was different from Warren's, and likely Ettwanae's. Or was he wrong? He and Ettwanae hadn't discussed their views on monogamy. Would Ettwanae allow him an occasional romp in the hay with Ztar, at least until they could consummate their own relationship? Would Warren be as tolerant if Ettwanae asked the same of him? Questions without answers at the moment.

"Thank you for understanding, Ztar…and for the offer." He sighed in deep relief as the strength of desire continued to wane.

Chime.

Ztar's face went soft and he closed the distance between them. "I will love you, Archangel, until I no longer draw breath. I love Jharda, as well…deeply…and will always love her. She and I connect in ways you and I cannot. She is of my kind and we share the intimacy of racial bonds. What you and I share is unique – I know this without doubt. We are connected on a level I have no name for." Ztar reached out and brushed his hand across Warren's cheek as he'd done countless times. That simple caress sent new shockwaves through Warren. "You are in me…part of me. My love for you is a different love than I hold for Jharda, and does not diminish my feelings for her. I am blessed that she understands and accepts that. So you see, I am free to be with you. You only need to come to me when your need can no longer be denied."

Warren stood mute. The connection Ztar had no name for was Ura. He wanted to give Ztar the word and tell him about their bond, but to what end? He and Ettwanae were searching for a way to break that very bond without killing the Empire's ruler. Warren decided it was best Ztar not know.

As he studied the handsome face, Warren felt compelled to be forthright with Ztar about Ettwanae as Ztar had been about Jharda. "I care very much for the man standing before me and I love him as a friend and long-time companion, but my feelings for Ettwanae grow stronger each day. As with you, that doesn't not change how I feel you, but what is between us must now take a back seat to the women in our lives. They deserve our faithfulness."

Ztar shook his head. "What we could give to one other does _not_ diminish or negate faithfulness to our mates, Archangel. My heart remains true to Jharda and yours with Ettwanae. This is separate from those relationships – what we share satisfies needs they cannot. Isn't it far better for us to be together occasionally, to be fully satisfied and whole, than for you and I to abstain and live with a hole in our souls? How does that make us better mates for the women we love?"

The conversation was helping, further steadying Warren. Ztar was voicing an argument that boiled down to a difference in moral code. Turzent culture generally saw nothing wrong in taking a companion in addition to a spouse. Warren's moral code said that was cheating. No amount of arguing would change their respective beliefs.

Double chime.

Brushing a stray hair from Ztar's face, Warren smiled at the man that he had spent six years looking up at. "We have different moral perspectives, Ztar. We must remember to respect that in each other. And you're right – we're connected somehow. I feel it as well. As for the sex…well, all I can say is Jharda is one lucky woman," he finished with a mischievous grin.

Ztar chuckled and surprised Warren with a chaste kiss to the forehead. "As is your Ettwanae."

Warren cringed internally. 'Maybe, if me and Ettwanae could actually _have_ sex!' he thought harshly, then wondered if the telepath had picked up the errant retort. A quick look to the man's eyes revealed nothing.

"Where are you headed next? Violating any more of my restricted areas?" the Emperor questioned, the corner of his mouth upturning in a lopsided smirk.

Warren chuckled while hoping his next slight alteration of the truth would hold up against the empath. Volu had suggested a planet for their last resupply before leaving the Empire, and that was Warren's out for the question he knew Ztar would ask. Once at the edge of Imperial space, then Warren would comm Ztar about their true destination, but not while standing within arm's reach of the man. It was within the realm of possibility the man would forcibly detain him out of fear. "Remember that lead I mentioned earlier? It's taking us to Ayni."

Ztar thought for a moment. "Isn't that a colony planet? Near the edge of the Empire?"

Warren nodded. Time to divert focus quickly. "And according to the comnet, it's a quite pleasant planet. Ettwanae and I are looking forward to stretching our wings. Tchut's winds are hellish – and, well, you know me. Need to get my airtime!"

A frown of worry moved over the Turzent face. "That is some distance from here – you will need to stop in between, Archangel. If your need is already growing…"

Ztar looked like a concerned parent, bringing a smile to Warren. "Yes, Dad. We'll stop in between," he teased, which erased the frown and got a chuckle from Ztar. "Good idea to start acting like a father, though. Keep practicing!"

A twinkle danced in Ztar's eyes. "Archangel, my feelings toward you are decidedly _not_ fatherly!"

###

As Ztar watched Archangel scoop up his chiming PI and leave, he couldn't suppress the double-edged disappointment. He had hoped for intimate time with his former companion, but Archangel denied them both those pleasures. He had hoped Archangel would trust him enough to share the astonishing event on Neu, but the man had not. Ztar could not admit to knowing of that without giving his betrayal away. Perhaps in time, Archangel would confide in him.

Gtar-Cro's transmission of the spectacle on Neu was burned into Ztar's mind. He recognized the energy released on the mountainside…it was the same golden light Archangel manifested on Fjai, only many times more intense. And the recording clearly showed the black fortress being disintegrated by that light. Shock and awe – that was his reaction upon viewing the display of power. The usually unemotional Gtar-Cro admitted the same response. His Esserru, his Archangel, had remained standing amid total annihilation. And next to him on the mountainside stood a female Esserru, as beautiful and majestic as Archangel.

A myriad of questions swirled around Archangel. Who were the mysterious occupants of the fortress? Why were they on Neu? What did they have to do with Archangel's quest? Why were they destroyed? Who was behind the attack on Tchutchka? Was it the Etagllot or a new menace? And who saved Archangel from those gunmen?

Brief thoughts had crossed his mind that the female Esserru might be responsible for the death of the men in the alley, but extensive research had uncovered no reference to the beings possessing telekinesis or even telepathy. Besides, the species were healers and teachers, not killers. No, he was convinced; someone else had stopped Archangel's attackers. But who and why?

The puzzle seemed to grow at every turn. What of the other cloaked ship? Who was behind the seeming attempts to manipulate the future of his Empire? How were they connected to the Esserru/Eshaaru? Was it the Etagllot or another force? If another force, why the attempt to kidnap Archangel from Earth?

Why did everything seem to link back in some way to his former companion?

Ztar shook his head in both frustration and an odd admiration. Wherever the Human went, mystery and trouble followed. "My Archangel, what am I to do about you?"

###

_A/N: Did you believe Warren would give in to Ztar or manage to remain faithful to Ettwanae? Are you pleased with his decision? And I hope you enjoyed the return of Elite Guard Gragne. I have a soft spot in my heart for the man who was steadfastly at Warren's side during several keys events in the last two books. And I've expanded a character from Circle Complete, Abmirzarcz (Ab for short) – he's straight man and foil to Gragne's comical side. We'll see more of them next chapter. _

_Soulbound is beginning to wrap up. Looks like we have another three to four chapters, depending on how I merge or break apart the rest of the book. No, the adventure does not end with the completion of this book. Far too many unanswered questions, mysteries, and journeys remain. But we will conclude one storyline first. _

_Before we get to the end of Soulbound, though, two rapid-fire tribulations will blindside Warren. Poor guy, he just can't seem to get a break! _


	38. Chapter 37

_A/N: Warren learns what's up with Gragne and Ab, while Ettwanae becomes impatience and worry leads to rising emotions. Then a third attempt to soulbind has unexpected results._

**Chapter 37**

Warren's eyes lit up when it wasn't Ab waiting outside the door, but another familiar face. "Sukja!"

After exchanging a quick embrace and pleasantries, Sukja motioned for them to head toward the Mi Lartui's main lift. "Your meeting with Ztar went well?" the Emperor's aide inquired with a curious look that read as a delicate way of probing about Ztar's all too well known salacious intentions toward Warren. There was no offense in the question.

"You know how the man is when he wants something, but we came to an understanding." Warren was still a touch amazed he'd been able to resist Ztar. Then he decided to move quickly to another subject. "Got the full treatment concerning Jharda's pregnancy. Came away with images I'm not certain I want to retain," he chuckled.

Sukja laughed heartily and splayed his orange-tinged digits in agreement. "He can be rather intense in his enthusiasm."

"That's one way of putting it." Warren slid a sly grin to his Ozjaerian friend. "So-o-o, how goes it with Atichi?" He watched as Sukja's face revealed everything Warren needed to know before the man uttered a word.

"I am happier than I can remember ever being. She is where my soul resides. Always has been, we just couldn't pursue it – not until Ztar was ready." Then Sukja placed a hand on Warren's arm as they stopped at the lift. "We have you to thank for that. You have our eternal gratitude."

Warren palmed the bio-sig control. The door immediately opened, but neither man moved to enter. "You give me too much credit."

"That is not true. Most people give you too little credit, Archangel. If not for what you did for Ztar, Atichi and I would not be together. He would still be guarding my time jealously and needing all my attention. The man he was before you, would not have allowed me a split focus. When you healed him, you gave me a chance for a life beyond serving our Emperor."

Warren believed he saw Sukja's eyes water slightly. He chose then to step into the elevator, allowing Sukja a moment to collect himself without Warren's gaze. "He was already heading down that path and all the work you put into him-"

"Archangel, _no_." Sukja's voice was firm almost to the point of harsh as he joined Warren in the lift. "Do _not_ lessen what you did." The alien locked his eyes onto Warren. "You performed a miracle, nothing less. Accept our gratitude, knowing we understand that without you, Atichi and I may have forever been friends who silently longed to be more."

Warren's heart warmed. He was deeply happy for Sukja and Atichi regardless of whom and what they believed had allowed their relationship to finally take the next step. "The fact you are happy is all that matters, my friend," he said with a hand to Sukja's shoulder. Then he narrowed his eyes and slightly dipped his wings in feigned suspicion. "And now will you tell me what you did with Ab? He was to escort me back to the shuttle."

Warren hadn't forgotten Gragne's request for a rendezvous and wondered how he would get there without Ab in tow. Problem solved by the Emperor's aide apparently.

"Deck 3," Sukja commanded into the air and the lift obeyed. "He was pulled suddenly to other duties." The explanation came with a smirk. "I kindly offered to escort you to your destination in his stead."

"Which is…let me guess. Crew's lounge."

A nod confirmed. "Gragne should have Dison waiting."

As the lift opened, Warren hesitated. "Any chance you'll tell me what the hell is going on _before_ we go in?"

"And deny myself the pleasure of watching the situation play itself out?" A pause followed as a twinkle danced in Sukja's eyes. "No chance at all."

As they stepped out of the elevator, Warren glanced at his PI as it chimed yet again. "Damn, excuse me, Sukja. Someone's been trying to contact me for a while now." Warren keyed up the message and his eyebrows shot up. It was only two words, but they were laden with meaning. "Ettwanae waits." He swallowed. The pointed missive could only have come from Volu. 'Thank god I can go back guilt free!' He quickly sent a short reply. Then he looked up at Sukja. "I need to get back soon."

Sukja tilted a hand in acknowledgement. "Then we must not keep you too long."

Warren and Sukja spied the guardsman at a back table, three filled glasses and a bottle of the familiar amber-colored drink waited. Gragne's eyes darted watchfully toward the lounge entrance as Warren and Sukja approached.

"A successful snatching of our charge I see," Gragne pointed out the obvious as the men settled.

"Guardsman Ab is otherwise occupied for awhile. Truly amazing how much difficulty the comm center is having maintaining that link to Jharda on Bast. We should have several minutes before he graces us with his presence," Sukja explained with a mischievous glint in his gray eyes.

Warren took a sip of Dison, smiling into his glass at whatever scheming Sukja had orchestrated to detain the sentry. Returning his beverage to the table, he imparted a stern look to the two men, one with bold orange hair and the other with a redder variety. 'Two carrot tops!' it suddenly hit him with amusement. "Okay you two…I don't have much time before I need to get back. What the hell is going on? What happened during the Ennovy-Eiram reception? And why the game playing?"

Gragne gave Sukja a guilty look as the Emperor's aide gestured for Gragne to proceed.

"Well…with all the focus on this Tchut incident…you know how the comnet can be – old news gets rehashed and things that were, ah, considered tantalizing in the past are suddenly all over the comnet again. Then Ab makes a comment and I defended your honor since that used to be my job. Well, defending your derriere was actually more my job, but I figured your reputation should be part of the assignment, _even_ if I was no longer your elite guard. Just because you dumped me, I wasn't about to do likewise, so I kept my oath to protect your royalness. One thing led to another and before you know it, he and I…," the man actually blushed. Warren didn't know Gragne's mixed species could. "we had a – a wager."

Warren blinked at the orange-haired alien. "Gragne, I still haven't fucking clue what you're talking about," he admitted with a blank expression.

Sukja sounded like he swallowed a laugh. "Archangel, what Gragne so eloquently attempted to say is that he bet Ab that you knew something you apparently do not."

He looked back and forth between the irritatingly evasive duo. "A bet about _what_, for God's sake?"

###

"Ettwanae, Warren sent a message – he will return soon."

Relief flooded Ettwanae in an emotional wave that brought tears to her eyes. "Truly, Volu?"

"That is what his message says."

"Thank the goddess!" Her throat tightened and she fought to maintain control through surprisingly powerful feelings. "I was so scared. I didn't know how scared until now."

"I know, my Poda." The soothing words were like warm honey.

"But did they…?" she couldn't bring herself to finish the question.

"Does it matter?"

Ettwanae considered. If Warren had shared Ztar's bed during the visit, _did_ it matter? He was returning to _her_, his message said. She and Warren couldn't be fully intimate and Warren had suffered Aru's urgings far more than she. It was harder on males, she understood that. If he found release with Ztar, then she would be happy for him, she decided. "All that matters is that he's coming back."

Her heart, though, knew she was lying.

###

Gragne slammed back a large gulp of Dison. "That Ztar was seen kissing Jharda at the last Ennovy-Eiram reception."

At first, Warren thought 'So?' Then it sunk in. The reception happened toward the end of his stay on Sat'rey. At the time, Warren had suspicions that Ztar and Jharda were involved an affair, but no proof. In fact, as far as he knew, no one knew or even suspected, with one possible exception – Sukja. "You mean a kiss kiss? Not a friendly, this is my old friend kiss."

Gragne's smile spoke volumes. "Oh, that was no friendship peck. They didn't think anyone saw them back in that private room. If it wasn't for a wandering comnews reporter with permission to record the reception. It was all over the comnet within hours."

"It was very unlike Ztar," Sukja added. "He forgot himself and in a moment of carelessness, got caught. That reporter was incredibly fortunate Ztar was oblivious until the incident hit the comnet. Otherwise, the woman would not have made it out of the reception with her memory or recording intact."

Warren was stunned. 'Ztar oblivious? What about _me_? How could I not know something like that had happened?' Warren quickly considered how he would have reacted if he'd learned of the incident at the time. It would have confirmed his suspicions, but likely wouldn't have changed much else. Yet again, considering how torn he was about his feelings toward Ztar back then, he wasn't entirely sure of how he would have handled confirmation the Turzent was cheating on him.

Reason kicked in just as quickly as surprise had. "Emperors having multiple companions is hardly news, so the big deal had to be that it was another member of his Court?"

"Precisely. And nothing wrong with that either, except it made for sensational speculation for a while concerning what the comnet label the Royal Triune. Our Emperor was livid."

"But if it was all over the comnet… Wait a minute. Ab mentioned something about the palace comnet being censored. But Ztar didn't act any different." He frowned at Sukja. "Nor did you! Was I that clueless or were you two that good?" When no response came except for a sympathetic look, he downed another draw of Dison. "Jesus, what world was I in?" Warren shook his head at himself. "But why the conspiracy?"

Sukja dipped his head patronizingly. "Archangel, you _know_ why."

"Ztar was afraid I'd leave."

Sukja waved a hand at the self-evident reason. "It was simply agreed that it would not be spoken of and the incident became an off-limit subject for everyone at the palace – a non-event."

"Where's the bet come in?"

The guardsman grunted. "When the reception gaffe was dredged up again after the Tchutchka incident went public. That's when Ab told me he suspected all along that you knew nothing. Naturally, I said you did. After all, I couldn't let him think you were that oblivious-" Gragne cut himself off sheepishly when Sukja shot him a scolding look. "Had to uphold your honor! I swore to him that you knew, but he still insisted you did not. Then we got a bit…enthusiastic about opposing opinions."

"And the wager was made. Ab saying I didn't know and you swearing I did." Warren shook his head at the scene playing out in his mind.

"When we heard the Mi-Lartui was heading here to meet up with you, Ab and I had agreed to try to settle the issue while you were here."

"Hence your feelers in the shuttle." Another taste of Dison was required.

"Figured it was a safe bet, but of course, had to be sure." Gragne leaned toward Warren. "Then you shocked me! I knew I was in trouble, so went looking for Sukja to confirm, _hoping_ you were still playing the "it never happened" game. He told me what I didn't want to hear – that you were never told and that no one knew you didn't know, outside himself, Ztar, and Jharda. _Apparently_," Gragne's eyes shot to Sukja with tempered indictment, "that was the beauty of the whole thing. They allowed everyone to believe you knew exactly what happened and chose to rise above all the gossip and innuendo by ignoring it. I fell for the ruse with everyone else." Gragne shook his head. "Well, everyone but Ab."

Warren still couldn't quite believe Ztar and Sukja had pulled off the subterfuge and he'd remained blissfully ignorant. "I fell for their ruse as well, Gragne. Imagine _my_ shock at hearing all this!"

The elite guardsman leaned over the table toward Warren with a mischievous smirk. "Sukja is cunning. You best be leery!" he warned in low tones.

After a good laugh at Sukja expense, Gragne locked eyes with Warren. "I don't understand, Archangel. Ever since they got word of the Tchut incident, the gossipmongers have been salivating over anything that even hinted of Court scandal, old juice included. The comnet has been replaying 'the kiss' and speculating whether the Royal Triune still exists. Seeing how you're dashing about the Empire with your new shipmates and not on your sequestered planet, how could you _not_ have known until today? You'd have to be in a black hole-" The man stopped abruptly when Sukja hit him with a censorious glare. Gragne blushed a second time having apparently crossed into impropriety. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Warren jumped allegorically between Sukja's visual reprimand and Gragne. "My shipmates don't watch the comnet much. We're a little self-focused right now."

Gragne recovered quickly. "So what _did_ Ab say when he took you up to the Emperor? You didn't give anything away, right?"

"Done you proud, Gragne – didn't let on at all."

The man fell back with exaggerated relief. "Thank Ozja! Ab's a sly one – got to watch yourself around him. Think it has to do with all those mixed up genes in his lineage. Makes him wily."

The Ozjaerian simply shook his head at the comment while Warren chuckled.

"How did Gragne pull you into this fiasco?"

The emperor's aide sighed deeply and deliberately. "Pity, I think. All I can say in my defense is I have a soft spot in my heart for those who intend well, but circumstance contrives to twist their good intentions against them. Such is the case with our friend here, Archangel." Sukja shifted as his PI sounded two tones. "Ab has left the comm center and on his way. We'd better wrap up any preliminaries."

"So Ab bet you I didn't know?" Warren sought confirmation.

Gragne nodded.

"You lost the bet," Warren felt the need to point out that little fact.

Gragne squirmed. "_Technically_, you could view it that way."

"Technically, my ass."

Gragne leaned toward Warren. "It's a matter of _honor_ now, Archangel. Yours and mine. He can't know you didn't know. We need to do some strategic sidestepping!"

"Translation – employ deception to maintain your elevated stature in the eyes of staff and by default protect Gragne's pride," Sukja offered helpfully. "At least that's how he hopes you view it."

Warren eased back, crossing his arms and giving his wings a quick flick for effect. "Can I ask what you wagered?"

A lengthy pause followed. Then the guard tilted his head. "You're still with me on this right, Archangel? I mean, you and Ab… you didn't work out some sort of agreement or anything?"

"You're paranoid, Gragne!" Warren pronounced with a chortle. "No, no agreement. Now what was the wager?"

Alcab/Turzent eyes met Ozjaerian. "You allowed yourself to fall into the trap, Elite Guardsman Gragne. Don't look to me to explain your lack of cerebral function."

Warren bemused silently, and waited patiently with raised eyebrows.

"I- I really believed Archangel knew!" the man pleaded to Sukja. "I mean, really, how could he have _not_-"

"Archangel, sir," the smooth baritone voice of Ab startled everyone as he approached. "My apologies for being unavailable to provide escort. Unexplainable and highly unusual difficulties with the comlink to Bast delayed me." The imposing figure of Ab closed in behind Gragne, who visibly clenched his jaw.

"The delay was welcomed. Gave us a time to catch up before I head back. Join us?" Warren invited with anticipatory smile. 'Oh, this could be good!'

"I'm told the shuttle has been prepped to return you to Tchutchka. The crew waiting, sir."

"They'll wait a few more minutes while we finish our Dison. Sit with us, Ab. And drop the sir business – makes me feel old. Both of those are orders, by the way." He grinned broadly.

Abmirzarcz pulled up a chair and settled in. Sukja signaled the server to fetch another glass and soon Ab was sipping Dison in his usual reserved style.

"All is well with Jharda?" Warren inquired.

"Apparently. Though I would prefer to be at her side, she has capable guard with her while duty calls me here. And as circumstance would have it, I have the pleasure of being assigned to you once again, even if briefly. Besides, to leave you solely in the hands of Gragne would be foolhardy."

Warren admired the face that was completely devoid of emotion. If he didn't know Gragne and Ab were indeed good friends, he'd had assumed the slam was dead serious. The delightful thing was that Ab knew that Warren knew.

Gragne snorted. "And I suppose leaving him with you is a better fate?" Gragne swiveled toward Warren. "Archangel, whom would you rather have at your side? Me, who has a sense of humor, knows how to have a good time, easy to talk to, charming, and can take down half an armada with just a portable phase cannon and hand gun, or Ab, who recites poetry, uses words longer than your forearm, and prefers to hit the single, big button to wipe out the enemy from afar?"

Warren contemplated for several heartbeats, much to Gragne's obvious dismay. "You each have your role and place. I would be hard pressed to choose one over the other. What do you think, Sukja? Ab or Gragne? Each offers strengths."

"Opposites that complement." Sukja offered, topping off their glasses from the bottle in the center of the table.

"Well said," Warren flattered. "Still, if one had to choose…" Warren added a perplexed frown to his teasing.

"Difficult. It would be as if one must choose between functionality and design."

Warren nodded thoughtfully. "Good analogy. Gragne performs very well, but Ab does so with sophistication."

Gragne sighed, leaned back, and crossed his arms. "Enjoying yourselves?" he asked looking back and forth between Warren and Sukja.

Ab waved his glass to insert a thought. "Perhaps we amble too far from the premise of elite guard – to serve, to protect without regard to one's own welfare, to ensure the health and longevity of our charge."

Warren recognized the paraphrase of the Elite Guard Creed. "Then I chose both, since I would be safest sandwiched between the skills and experience of you as a complimentary pair." He smiled widely at the two men he had grown fond of during his time on Sat'rey. Dison, old friends, and a second wind kicking in to override his weariness from the long day joined forces to make Warren feel daring. 'Might as well plunge right in!'

"So Ab, I understand you and Gragne have a divergence over a certain Ennovy-Eiram display of affection. Is there anything I can clear up about that situation?" Gragne nearly choked on his Dison at the directness of the question. Warren shot him a smirk.

Ab set his glass down with deliberation and leveled his eyes to Warren's. "When in the company of royalty, propriety dictates certain subjects be addressed only when broached by said royal. I hope my impertinent colleague did not offend in his enthusiasm to reconcile converse opinion."

Gragne jerked with disapproval. "Ab, jettison the pruditudes. This is _Archangel_. Talk like a normal person and maybe we can follow your ramblings!"

The man who was elite guard to his very core nearly withered Gragne with a condescending gaze. "Must I remind you that we are on the Emperor's ship and not alone?" Ab admonished with a nod toward other lounge patrons. "Appearances of familiarity and _chumminess_ are inappropriate." Then Ab shot a quick glance to Warren and Sukja to confirm the cutting remarks were only half-hearted.

Gragne muttered something under his breath and shook his orange-topped head, but then a sly smile crossed his face. "You're dodging a Royal's question, or did you think I'm too dim-witted to have noticed?"

'Yup, this is proving entertaining,' Warren admired the verbal sparring between the unlikely friends. It really was no contest, though. Gragne was a plain talk, gung-ho, no-gun-is-big-enough guy. Ab was reserved and analytical; the intellectual one. Gragne hadn't a chance in the current combat arena.

With Ab's lack of immediate response, Gragne saw an opening. "Doubting your position on the matter in question, Ab?"

The refined guardsman looked to Warren and Sukja. "My apologies, sirs, but I must ask about the appropriateness of the topic. It was a rather delicate matter at the time."

A tilt of the hand toward Warren signaled Sukja's deferment. He took it readily. "The topic of Ztar's kissing Jharda at the Ennovy-Eiram reception is wide open. _And_ we'll drop all pretenses of propriety at this table." Warren upturned one corner of his mouth. "That's another order, Guardsman."

Abmirzarcz suddenly looked uncomfortable with Warren's directives. It was obvious his sense of what were proper conversational topics with a member of royalty was at direct odds with the current subject. 'Hell, this _is_ a touchy issue,' Warren recognized. 'We're talking about whether or not I knew Ztar was having an affair.' Yet because Turzent Emperors were entitled and almost expected to have multiple lovers, he also realized it wasn't so much the topic as the blend of interlocutors that was causing the unease.

Warren watched Gragne study his fellow guardsman with mixed apprehension and anticipation. Ab was more difficult to read as signs of discomfort faded, but appeared to analyze the situation as he sipped Dison. Warren wondered what the men had bet. He'd not release them from his presence until he knew. 'There are times when you need to throw the weight of your position around – this is one,' he decided.

Ab returned his glass to the table and leaned toward Warren. "That being the case, sirs, then perhaps we can resolve this rather awkward issue expediently. Gragne is of the opinion you knew about the referenced incident. I, on the other hand, feel that in an effort to spare you any discomfort, knowledge of said incident was withheld from you." Then the man apparently felt obligated to explain further. "It is not that I believe in any way you to be less than insightful, Archangel. Rather, I know how skilled those around you can be at shielding people they care about from imbroglio."

Sukja was watching him closely – Warren didn't have to look to know. Was Sukja feeling twinges of guilt at the deception he and Ztar connived? But Warren understood the reasoning and held no animosity toward either conspirator. Besides, it was all in the past.

"Is there a question coming at some point?" Warren asked smoothly, but without harshness.

Coal-black eyes sighted in Warren. "Before we settle this indecorous matter between me and my colleague, please understand our behavior is not normally what I would partake in or condone. I allowed myself to be pulled into a juvenile wager to which honor then bound me. My humblest apologies, sirs." Ab looked from Warren to Sukja. "Know this ill-mannered conduct will _not_ be repeated." With the last words, the black eyes jumped to his cohort with near lethal intensity. Gragne flinched.

"Apology accepted." Warren acknowledged with a nod. "Ask away, Ab. Let's get this settled."

Ab eased back in his chair; the air of confidence unmistakable. "The question, then. Were you aware of the publicized Ennovy-Eiram reception kiss between the Emperor and Court Member Jharda while you lived on Sat'rey?"

Warren swallowed a sip of the sweet, fiery liqueur and did not rush into an answer. Gragne had stopped breathing and Sukja was studying Warren with great curiosity. He suspected the Ozjaerian was trying to determine where Warren's allegiance would fall – to loyalty or truth.

'Oh, decisions, decisions. What to do?' Warren pondered with more than a little amusement. Perhaps he could drag out the suspense a while longer. "Before I answer that question, I have one of my own. What were the wagers?"

Gragne released the breath he was holding a little too loudly and gave Warren an uneasy grimace.

"I offered a year's worth of subbing," Ab jumped in. "Gragne, you see, is growing restless and seeking female distraction. So I offered to fill in for him personally as our schedules allow when both the Emperor and future Empress are in residence at the palace. That would provide him more opportunities to gallivant in Yaunra in rummage of unsuspecting victims."

Gragne snorted and threw a scowl Ab's way. "That's his take on it, Archangel. He forgot to add that should schedules not permit, he would make the necessary arrangements to ensure someone covered my shift. Seemed like a good deal to me!"

Ab smiled a slow grin. "Until I named my price."

A finger pointed straight at Ab. "It's sadistic! You gain nothing by it but the possibility of watching me suffer," Gragne nearly snarled.

"Ah, but you accepted the wager. Quite enthusiastically, as I recall."

"Because Archangel knew all about the reception! I'd never have to pay up." Pleading eyes shot back to Warren. "It was a sure bet. Couldn't lose."

The wry smile on Ab's face never faltered.

"Gragne, what is the price if you lose?" Warren prompted.

"I'd rather walk through the Pits of Pardian. Hours of agonizing hell would be more desirable!"

Ab tilted his glass to observe the viscosity of the Dison. "She regards you highly, Gragne, though I believe her esteem is mislaid. Imagine, though, how happy you'd make her."

Warren was intrigued. "Who are we talking about?"

Ab was going to speak, but Gragne beat him to it. "Only the most annoying, persistent, gaudy, completely-not-my-taste _woman_ in the palace."

The emphasis on 'woman' held all sorts of connotations. "_Who_?"

"Wxia'ne's sister."

Warren instantly recognized the name – the head of palace entertainment. A Wynnaran. Squat, plump, snouted, with gray wrinkly skin, small pupil-less eyes, and cupped ears, the species resembled the Earth mammal commonly called moles. "He has a _sister_?"

"He does," Ab tapped the table with a finger for emphasis. "And she has her intentions set decidedly on Gragne."

The man moaned his discomfort. "She even dresses like Wxia'ne – just to add to the overall aesthetic appeal." Sarcasm ran heavy.

Sukja laughed as Ab smirked. Warren recalled vividly the garish attire the temperamental, artistic staff member boldly wore. His imagination conjured up a female version of Wxia'ne and it wasn't exactly attractive to his Human sense of aesthetics. "I don't recall a sister being at the palace when I lived there."

Gragne shook his head. "No, she arrived shortly after you ditched us. It didn't take long for her to lock onto me. She's been the bane of my existence since."

Ab actually laughed at that. "You should see the lengths one of Emperor's fearsome elite sentinels will go in the attempt to evade Dreia'ne. Quite entertaining."

"You'd do likewise if she was after _you_!" Gragne accused harshly. "The woman is like a rueger-derr."

The comparison of the Wynnaran to the famed animal known for its relentless pursuit of prey conjured more amusing images. Warren chuckled. "And so if Ab wins, then you what – take her out on a date?" The pieces fit.

A sigh nearly exploded the across the table from Warren. "Exactly," the tone was both fearful and defeated. "So you see what's at stake here, Archangel, right? You understand the seriousness of the situation?" Desperation swept over Gragne's face.

"I think I get the picture." He also wondered how much of the unwanted female attentions were involved with Gragne's earlier offer to go with Warren as personal guard on his and Ettwanae's mission.

Sukja leaned in, his eyes twinkling with sadistic mischief. "So perhaps you'll settle the issue now and we can all learn whether or not Gragne and Dreia'ne have a future." That elicited a groan from the potential suitor.

Warren took a draw of Dison and weighed his options. He was not one for lying, but the truth would send his friend into Dreia'ne clutches, at least for one evening. Yet as uncomfortable as the situation may be for Gragne, he'd survive and likely find a way to end the woman's fixation. Less than the truth and Ab would be indebted to Gragne for a full year, facing potentially many double shifts. Still, a guard shift at the palace wasn't exactly demanding. Most times, it simply meant waiting at standby for a call to serve. 'Gragne got himself into this mess,' Warren judged without mercy. 'What is my motivation to lie to save his ass? If it was ever revealed I wasn't truthful, my integrity would take a nasty hit.' He looked at each man in turn. 'Yet Gragne looks so damn desperate. He did risk his life to save me from Drex, accompanied me to Ennovoc prison and to Fjai and on my little mountain retreat…' The imperial guardian was more than that. He'd become a friend in that time. And friends do for friends. But lie?

The question left no wiggle room. Did he or did he not know of the infamous kiss while on Sat'rey? He most certainly did not. 'Truth or lie? Truth or lie?' Then Warren caught himself. There _was_ another option.

He set the Dison down and gave first Ab and then Gragne a searching look. Ab still exuded confidence while Gragne's expression leaned more toward pleading. "As is my royal prerogative, I chose not to answer such an invasive question. What I did or did not know of our Emperor's behavior is none of your affair."

Gragne's mouth dropped open and then quickly snapped shut. Ab, though, apparently had anticipated the dodge and gave Warren an accepting bow of the head. Had he known all along that Warren would choose decorous nondisclosure?

Warren spread his hands on the table and pushed his chair back. "And now, gentlemen, I need to get back to Tchut – other friends are waiting." Standing, he waited as his tablemates followed suit.

"Sir, your shuttle is ready. I'll wait for you just outside the lounge."

'The man's insightful,' Warren decided as Gragne swooped over to his side with Ab's departure.

"Archangel, you just saved me from a horrible fate. Not exactly as I thought you would, but thanks! By all the gods of Sat'rey, if I had to entertain that woman for even one evening…" He left the rest to imagination.

Sukja shook his head. "Don't believe for a moment that Ab doesn't know exactly what the true situation is. The man's much too intelligent. He let you off, Gragne," Sukja's opinion mirrored Warren's.

Gragne cringed. "I'm done betting against Ab. Too dangerous!"

Sukja and Warren laughed at Gragne's expense one last time. Then Warren placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "I appreciate your belief that I wasn't as clueless as I apparently was," he said a wink at the guard, followed by a sharp eye to Sukja. "Sometimes I'm not as observant as I like to believe."

The Ozjaerian tilted his head and gave Warren appreciative smile. "Archangel, you are not easily kept in the dark. Ztar and I were lucky other matters overshadowed our efforts. I hope you forgive the deception and understand the motives."

Warren nodded. He'd dwell no longer on the topic. "I really do need to get back."

Goodbyes exchanged, Warren left old friends behind, followed Ab to the launch-ready shuttle, and was soon heading toward the flat planet where new friends waited.

###

Far below, Ettwanae fretted and she began to pace the bay where she had decided to wait. Still no Warren. What was delaying him?

"He said soon, right, Volu?"

"He did."

"Then what is taking so long?"

Irritation was creeping in, along with a touch of fear that perhaps Ztar had managed to hold onto Warren after all. Conflicting emotions tugged and tore and agitation escalated. As she paced, illogical imaginings began to form. What if he just buying time and had no intentions of returning? Make her think he was coming back when all along he was planning to stay with his former lover? That'd be just like a man – lie, then duck and run!

"Warren will come. We must be patient." Volu's tone sounded concerned, throwing fuel on the fire.

Irrational anger grew by the step. Wings spread, brow furrowed. "He's not returning, Volu! He's listening to Ztar tell him he's better off leaving me. No more Aru tension to endure. No more enemies hunting us. No more frustrating roadblocks wherever we turn. Who wouldn't want to get away from that!" She began to shake as emotions welled up from a place that frightened her, adding to her mild panic. She knew that place. It meant only one thing.

"Ettwanae?" Volu's voice filled the bay. "He returns."

It was all she needed to hear. She collapsed to the floor, tears of relief running down her cheeks.

###

A significant portion of Hercjell's team was snipped off like an acrochordon and she had been furious. Anger erupted when Director Sident explained the request for her to appear in front of him with project files in hand was only a ruse, and that two days after her departure, the facilities were raided by imperial forces that had been tipped off by their own people.

"It already happened? But I had no time to prepare! At least you could have warned me, even covertly," she challenged her long-time superior. "I had personal affects, research tools – those should have been saved!"

Director Sident apologized, but not overly so. Those loses came with the job. She knew as well as he the price of their allegiance and was speaking out of knee-jerk anger. Her most valuable data had been spared, as was she and two other senior scientists. He explained critical research data was erased from facility computers shortly after she left and did not fall to the Empire. That helped appease his unwitting apprentice's fury. She calmed, as he knew she would. After all, she was unscathed. A testament to her worth to the organization she would believe, and he'd do nothing to change that perception.

al'Verta pushed and probed for the whys, but she gained no more than he was willing to share. He did not mention the benefit to Omnipotent. That project was not discussable.

"You and I both operate knowing we are tools for the greater organization, al'Verta," he began, invoking her first name. Her kind put their family name first with given name following. "Decisions are made at levels above us that may seem illogical or without merit, but that is only because our knowledge is limited by necessity. We must either trust those making the decisions or we will see injustice and chaos everywhere – not a pleasant way to live. The orders came from the Prime Director herself and they must be respected. She holds the complete picture where you and I see only pieces."

He was relieved when she accepted that and the anger dispelled. If his protégé was going to rise further through the ranks, she needed to be able to accept the premise even when it negatively impacted personally. Someday, she may be giving the same speech from his chair.

Then he outlined the next phase of Project 1165 and any remaining animosity in Hercjell quickly evaporated.

###

Gatebi and Flint lounged in the gathering room two days after leaving Tchutchka Centrus. Out of the corner of her eye, the Alcab watched her shipmate use his mutant gift to ignite a food wrapper that he'd tucked into a glass. She knew the sign. The young man was worried about something.

"Flint, you know how Volu feels about that. She will sting you."

The teen stared at the flames devouring the odent berry packaging, surprisingly little smoke rising up. "It's not like I'm gonna burn the place down," he quipped back, but there was no heat behind the defense.

"It's the idea, Flint. You would not appreciate someone setting a fire inside your abdomen." Gatebi used no accusing tones, only stated blandly what Flint was well aware of. She knew not to ask outright what was wrong as that sometimes backfired with the teen. Flint would open up at his own pace.

His pace was quick that day. "Whadda think about leaving the Empire? I know we all agreed, but I'm not sure I'm likin' the idea so much."

Gatebi studied Flint more closely, a motherly look softening her face. "You are worried?"

Flint stiffened at the possibility his bravery was perhaps in question. "It's not me I'm worried about. Me and War can handle anything. It's you and Twae. It's not safe out there, that's what you all said. Empire good – Commonwealth okay – points between, nasty. Bad dudes with bad ships and even badder guns, remember?"

"Guns are useless without a target, Flint. We'll be cloaked the whole way across the Barrens."

He leaned back and crossed his arms. "I know _that_, Gabby! Still, isn't the Barrens where all the illegal stuff happens? Gangs hidin' out and smugglin' shit between the Empire and Commonwealth? And there's no law, right? Like the Wild West or somethin'!"

Gatebi lowered her PI to her lap. "I don't know what you mean by Wild West, but there is no law enforcement in the Barrens, you are correct. That's why those who wish to escape both Commonwealth and Imperial authorities tend to congregate there even though it's illegal to cross into the Barrens."

"Yeah, right – like the criminals are gonna pay attention to that law!"

"We'll just be passing through and Volu will be phased. No one will know we're there."

Flint would not be deterred. "A lot can happen in 10 days. That's how long it'll take to cross, right?"

A nod confirmed. "Don't worry, Flint. Volu knows how to protect us. Her weapons are kick-ass, to use a term you seem attached to." She parted with a reassuring smile, and Flint couldn't help but laugh.

"Ya know, Gabby, kick-ass comin' outta your mouth just ain't right!" Silence fell over the lounge as both were lost in their own thoughts. Flint absentmindedly popped odent berries into his mouth. "Isn't Atlas or whatever it's called supposed to have been the hang out for some long-dead race? Isn't the place under big keep-out sign?"

"You _were_ paying attention, at least partially," Gatebi said in feigned amazement. "The name of the planet is Atmoz Prime. And yes, it is classified as a preservation site."

The teen huffed. "Hey, give a guy a break, will ya? All your talk of worlds and places I got no clue 'bout." He tossed a berry into his mouth. "Vo said she didn't find much about the place. But if there's some secret military base or a Dark Ones fortress, that wouldn't exactly be posted on the comnets."

Gatebi tilted her head at Flint. "When we get close, Volu will be able to determine if that is the case."

"Ya think we're gonna find anythin' on that dust ball?"

"If Warren and Ettwanae were correct in their recreation of the Dark One's holo display, yes, I believe will find something. What that will be, I cannot guess."

Flint grew quiet once again. A frown formed as he looked down.

The Alcab leaned forward, arms on thighs. "Flint, you are indeed worried. In truth, I am as well. We will be far from all we know – more on our own than ever before. Are you certain you don't wish to return home?"

Green eyes shot up. "I'm not a quitter, Gabby. I told Twae I'd stay and I will. All I'm sayin' is this could be really dangerous now that we're leavin' the Empire. Having Warren here and knowin' he's got Ztar Almighty to cover our backsides has been kinda…good, ya know? We get in big ass trouble, SOS to Ztar!" Flint smirked, but then his face fell serious quickly. "But we leave our home turf and we got nobody again."

Gatebi rose and joined Flint on the lounger, placing a gentle hand on his forearm. "We've got each other, just like before Warren came."

Flint studied the hand resting on him. Five short fingers and thumb, no nails, medium brown skin. An alien's hand. A friend's hand. "Yeah, you're right. We was out there before without a safety net, and we did okay, didn't we?" he asked looking up into the alien eyes.

"We did." Gatebi withdrew her hand. Flint almost wished it had lingered longer.

"Who needs Ztar Almighty when you got me and War? Huh?" he said thrusting out his chest. "Two kick-ass mutants like us can take out a lot of bad guys!"

The orange-haired Alcab smiled and shook her head, then returned to her favorite chair.

Then a new subject popped into his head. "Gabby, did you ever hear what Warren's big Tchut secret business was all about?"

Settling into a sprawled position to pick up reading where she'd left off, Gatebi gestured negative. "Ettwanae told me that Warren has not shared that with her either. I told her to remember that he's Royal Court and there will be things he cannot discuss with us. She still seems upset with Warren over that. I suggested she trust Warren – if he can't speak of it, he can't. Unfortunately, that wasn't what Ettwanae wanted to hear."

"Guess you're right." The woman's last statement led to another topic. "Gabby, have you noticed anything different 'bout Ettwanae lately?"

Elongated, whiteless brown eyes narrowed. "Flint, could you _occasionally_ use my actual name?"

"What's wrong with Gabby? Nicknames are…what's the phrase?…a term of…endearment! See, I like you, so you get a nickname. Simple idea, but nobody 'round here but War seems to get that."

Gatebi sighed. "What do you mean about Ettwanae?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. Like maybe off or touchy or somethin'."

A frown crinkled Gatebi's forehead. "Perhaps. She does seem overly irritated about Tchut and having a hard time accepting that Warren can't discuss it. And she has been a bit moodier-" Gatebi eyes widened and she shot a worried look Flint's way. "How long has it been?"

"'bout long enough, I think."

"If that's the case, we had best prepare ourselves."

"Least this time, we know what's comin'!"

Gatebi nodded. "Maybe Warren can help."

"Yeah! He'll be our shield. Wonder if he goes through the same thing, though."

Apprehension flickered across the Alcab features. "I prefer not to consider the possibility, especially if they go through it together."

The teen put on an exaggerated horrified expression. "They'd be no survivors! Doubt even Vo would come out alive. They'd find us with our faces and limbs ripped off and adrift in space," he predicted direly with a shiver.

"Best not to contemplate that scenario," Gatebi suggested, making a point of starting to read.

Flint stretched out on the lounger and snatched up his PI. "Right, too traumatic." He was ready for another round of Lanic World to take his mind off pending catastrophe. Maybe he'd beat Vo this time.

"Hey, Vo!"

Silence.

"Flint to Vo – you there?" he tried again, knowing exactly why the Eshaar'ne was ignoring him.

An odd cross between a sigh and soft growl permeated the air. "For the three-hundredth forty-sixth time, my name is Volu."

"You make my point, Vo_lu_. Nobody gets the nicknames business. Aliens! _Clueless_!" A wave of his arms emphasized his frustration. "But was wonderin' if you've figured yet out where we're stopping for supplies?"

"Based on our trajectory, Ayni is our best option. Warren and Ettwanae are in agreement as it also offers a chance for them to stretch wings."

"Ayni is one of the border colonization planets, correct?" Gatebi injected.

"You are correct. Sparsely populated as yet, but does have one larger city where supplies can be purchased."

"Hope they got odent berries!"

"Do not raise hopes, Flint. Ayni may not offer the variety we are accustomed to."

"Damn. I'm gonna ask, though. Love these things!" With that, he popped the last one in his mouth. "Vo..lu," he emphasized the second syllable as he wanted an answer. "Is Ettwanae startin' to molt?"

Gatebi quit reading and an anxiously expectant expression filled her face.

The room suddenly felt heavier. "The signs all indicate that is the case, Flint."

"Shit." Flint was almost afraid to ask the next question. "And Warren?"

Heaviness eased. "I sense no similar changes in his biology."

Two aliens let out simultaneous sighs of relief.

"Thank god! One rabid bird's enough!"

"We should warn Warren," Gatebi suggested.

"He already knows."

"How?" Flint demanded.

"I told him."

Flint sat up quickly with an angry grunt. "And you didn't warn us!" he accused with a hand waving between him and Gatebi.

"I would have shortly. However, I wanted to spare you too much time for anxiety to build."

"That was considerate, Volu," Gatebi said with an approving nod, "right, Flint?"

The Human flopped back down into the lounger. "Yeah, thanks a million, Vo. You got our backs, I can see that," he snarled, but there wasn't much fire behind the sarcasm. Flint proceeded to blast Lanic World bad guys into oblivion with vengeance.

###

She moaned as powerful hunger and delicious, sensual pleasures merged. Ettwanae gripped his wings where flesh met feather and pulled him tightly to her, pressing his chest against her breasts. Their mouths locked, and fire danced between them. That blaze burned a white-hot trail to her nether regions. She wanted him there – she must him inside her. Rampant passion was beginning to wrestle control; Aru demanded consummation.

He groaned as lust demanded release. They were so close. He wanted her as he'd wanted no other. Warren longed to feel her everywhere – all at once, to merge with her physically, mentally…to his very soul. The aching was nearly more than he could bear. Raw need flashed in Ettwanae's eyes. Primal drives were rising. They needed to make their move soon or risk losing control.

"Warren, _now_!" she begged in the raspy voice of desperation.

He raised his hips as she spread herself. At the same time, he reached down to the passionate energy he had shared with Ztar so many times. It rose quickly as if impatiently awaiting his call. Rapturous bliss rolled up from that deep and mysterious place.

"Hurry," she urged. She felt him at her entrance. Then like a viper's strike – pain! Searing. Deep. Repulsing. "No-o-o! D-don't stop!" She fought to block the torture. Her almost-lover's body shook violently above her.

Warren tried, he really did. He'd dealt with pain before, but this was different. Not so much physical as it was…what? He couldn't describe it any more than he could fight it. And he certainly couldn't finish the act – his body simply couldn't perform while in searing agony. One last hope. He fought the scorching to surge up more euphoric energy and pushed it outward to Ettwanae.

"Warren, _NO!_" Volu's scream shattered Ettwanae's chambers.

Too late. Opposing forces collided and the room went supernova. An explosion of blinding brilliance erupted between their bodies, expelling Warren violently off Ettwanae and the bed, slamming him into the opposite wall. He slid to the floor, consciousness fighting to escape the hellish pain consuming his body.

"_Ettwanae! Warren!" _

The Eshaar'ne's cries cut through the haze of dulled consciousness and confusion. 'What happened?' Ettwanae fought for understanding. "Warren?" she managed when she realized he was no longer atop her, no longer in the bed. Panic! The room whirled as she struggled upright, blinking to see pass the retinal flash affects. Then she saw him…crumpled on the floor, unmoving. Her heart nearly stopped. "_Warren!_"

He stirred.

"Warren, please!" She pulled herself to the edge of the bed, close to sobbing. "Oh, goddess, let him be okay," she prayed aloud.

"Ettwanae, he will recover," Volu reassured, though the tone was tense.

Lowering herself to the floor, she crawled on hands and knees. Just as she reached him, his eyes opened, but looked frighteningly vacant.

"My poor soulbound," she said taking his face into her trembling hands. "Warren, p-please, speak to m-me." She brushed back his hair, and pulled him into her, wrapping her arms and wings around him. He was shaking violently, and his breathing ragged.

/ _Volu?_ / she called gently with her mind.

/ _I am here, Poda._ /

/ _What happened?_ /

/ _Warren should not have attempted what he did. It was very dangerous._ /

/ _I agreed to it, Volu. We thought it might help. If we could use the pleasure of his Source filtering to dull the pain of rejection…_ /

/ _I understand how it would appear a reasonable tactic, but the very nature of Warren's filter caused this. Soulbinding is a merging of Ura energy via sexual intercourse. Warren manifests Source through the limbic brain – the sexual center. He conjures a variation of the very thing Ura is prohibiting. / _A mental sigh filled their connection._ / I should have predicted the attempt…I should have warned you._ /

/ _Volu, this is not your fault. We were foolish not to talk with you first._ / Ettwanae would not let her Eshaar'ne assume guilt for their actions. She whispered reassurances into Warren's ear; the only response was a groan. / _He will be okay?_ /

/ _He will. The backlash of energy was a shock to his body and lifeforce, but I can detect no permanent damage to either. Warren only needs rest. _/

They sat there for time unknown. She whispered, cooed, stroked his back, wings…held on until the trembling stopped and his breathing became steady. Eventually, his arms drew up and around her.

Warren slowly became aware of Ettwanae's lulling vocalizations. Odd sensations he couldn't recall feeling before were disconcerting. There was numbness somewhere he couldn't pinpoint. His body was whizzing and tingling and he felt detached, his mind clouded, but it was all easing. Finally, he could speak.

"I'm sorry…so sorry. Are you okay?" he asked into her hair.

"Shhh, it's okay. I'm okay. You took the worst of it."

Gently, Warren pulled back and studied her face. After resisting Ztar during their visit four days earlier, the longing for sexual closure with Ettwanae had become unbearable. He and Ettwanae had talked and decided to try again, despite the possibility of further escalating the drive to mate. Then just before they tumbled into bed, ill-fated inspiration came and he suggested using what he could conjure to plow through Ura's painful rejection. Near disaster. Another failure. His fault.

"I should have known better…should have known it couldn't be that easy…"

The defeat in his voice nearly drove her to tears. She took his hand into hers.

"I'm sorry," he said again, unable to look at her, only at their joined hands. "You could have been hurt."

She combed fingers through the golden hair. "No apologies. We knew it could be risky. Let's call it another test…a chance to learn more about what we're facing."

Warren looked up, locking blue eyes to blue. "Unfortunately, the enemy is our own _bodies_, Ettwanae. How we can fight that?" Anger sparked.

"We don't know until we tried everything. I want to keep trying. Maybe there are drugs or pain inhibitors or something. I won't give up!" She put a hand behind his neck and rested her forehead against his, closing her eyes. "We'll find a way. We'll force the bonding. The amulet will fully waken. We'll find Etxan'Ir and a way to make everything right. You'll see." Her words were brave and confident; she wished she felt the same. She released him, kissed his forehead, then his cheek. "I love you, Warren. I will always love you."

The words were like a dagger to the chest. She loved him. He was likely falling in love with her. They could not consecrate that love. Warren stroked her golden hair. Need was rising again...urgings so intense he shuddered and almost want to push her away knowing he could do little to satisfy those desires. Instead, he clung to the woman who was day by day stealing his heart. "I want to be what you need me to be, but I don't know how to fight this!" he hissed in frustration.

"We'll find a way. Don't give up hope."

Despite her words, he was disheartened. They couldn't bond. Did that doom their mission to failure? Was it foolish to hope otherwise? Were they being too stubborn or unrealistic to accept that reality? But he'd promised Ettwanae that he wouldn't give up – not on their mission and not on them. At that moment, though, all their dreams seemed delusions.

Ettwanae moaned and Warren realized the urgings were escalating. 'God, I'm getting tired of this,' he lamented silently as they untangled their bodies. Warren suddenly realized he was weary to the bone. "I need some sleep." She nodded with understanding and he rose cautiously, still feeling unsteady. After slipping on his jeans and giving Ettwanae a quick kiss on the forehead, he left to return to his own room and collapsed in bed.

His mind wouldn't let go, though, despite numbing physical fatigue. It wandered to their next destination – Atmos Prime. Could be a wild goose chase, but his gut told him that was not the case…_if_ they had the right planet. Even a small miscalculation or fault in memory and they had the wrong star system. But what choice did they have? Atmos Prime was their only lead. Would it be worth the effort and the risk?

Then thoughts drifted to his comm of two days earlier to Charles and the update he'd given his old friend. Charles' reaction was tempered, almost as if the man wanted to say he told Warren so. The lack of information in the retrieved nodes, the long-shot trip to Atmos Prime that may turn out to be nothing more than a Dark Ones stronghold, to the inability to bond with Ettwanae. All signs of pending failure. All confirmation of the foolishness of the quest. That is what he had read in Charles' face and tone.

"I don't give up easily," he'd told the elder man. In hindsight, Warren had sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than Charles.

Volu was racing toward the edge of the Empire with a couple stops planned along the way – one to sate Warren's growing craving for airtime, and one to fill Volu's holds to overflowing. Then they would pass through the buffer zone known as The Barrens between the neighboring realms before entering The Systems Commonwealth and the great unknown. Once outside Turzent space, they would truly be on their own. No more safety net called Ztar.

A smile crept onto his lips as warm memories of the Turzent drifted across his dulling mind. Part of Warren wished he had given in to the man's desire. Maybe Ztar was right…maybe they did need each to be whole…

Then drowsiness stole thought. Curling up on his side, Warren spread one wing across in a feathery blanket. Softness and warmth melted away the remnants of troubled ruminations and he drifted off.

###

_A/N: The reception kiss storyline was actually something I had considered for the last book, Circle Complete. However, it ended up on the cutting room floor, as they say… didn't move the story forward and actually would have added unnecessary complications. Ztar did attend the __Ennovy-Eiram reception with Jharda (as Warren had suggested he do) not all that long before Warren left Sat'rey to return to Earth. _

_Since according to Soulbound, the topic had been declared off-limits at the time, it fits that Ztar's attendance of the reception isn't elaborated upon in Circle Complete and was the "non-event" Sukja terms it here. A bit of a stretch, perhaps, but then again, the events and happenings in the lives of our characters beyond what we read about in a story could fill volumes. _

_Resurrecting the side story gave me an opportunity to break up the seriousness of Soulbound and inject what I hope is a bit of humor with one of my favorite supporting characters – Gragne. While even here the kiss incident doesn't move the story forward, I felt one: it is a needed change in mood and tempo, and two: the incident can be in and out of the storyline cleanly with no lasting repercussions or complications. _

_You, the reader, are the final judges whether or not "the kiss incident" is a positive addition to the story. If nothing else, hopefully you enjoyed the brief trip on the sidetrack. _

_Next time: Hercjell al'Verta makes an appearance, Warren and Ettwanae get to 'stretch wings,' and the unrelenting sexual tension takes its toll on Warren in a frightening way, resulting in a major decision. _


	39. Chapter 38

_A/N: Looks like we've come to the next to last chapter of Soulbound. In these last two sections, we tag the positions of our key players to wrap up._

_But first, in this installment, Ztar reviews where things stand for him and the Empire. Hercjell makes a cameo appearance. Ettwanae and Warren folic on Est'El. Phai reflects on the situation from her perspective. Lastly, Warren is staggered by the first of two blows, in a one-two punch that will leave him reeling. _

**Chapter 38**

Ztar had struggled only briefly with the decision after Archangel departed the Mi-Lartui. Archangel stated Ayni was where the clues were taking them, but something in the man's wording left the true destination open to debate. Ztar suspected that Ayni was a layover only and not the objective. And so, he had ordered that the military Ayni System comsat sensors be recalibrated to monitor for the difficult to detect Hydeera signature associated with Eshaaru ship. Then when the distinctive signal left the planet, they would extrapolate possible destinations based on what would be limited trajectory information captured before the ship became undetectable. Ztar knew the odds of getting the true destination correct were exceedingly slim, but he had to try.

Waiting would be the difficult part. It was uncertain when Archangel's ship would arrive at the remote colony. That Ayni was at the edge of Turzent-controlled space alone made Ztar nervous. He had bad feelings about what that meant.

The man sighed in resignation. With little he could do to watch over his wandering Court member, Ztar returned his attention to things he did have some semblance of control over. Various reports awaited his perusal. His long-time aide was extremely adept at sifting through the myriad of news briefs and dispatches other government officials felt worthy of the Emperor's attention. Most weren't. Ztar wished to stay focused on long-term issues and challenges, not mired in routine trappings of managing an interstellar realm. That was one of the driving forces behind his shift to a blended imperialistic and democratic rule – an imperiocratic government. True, a leader must understand the current state of his realm, but he must also peer far into the future with clear vision. Only then could he devise the best course from present state to future goal. One cannot map the path from ground level…a higher perspective is required – the 20,000-onta altitude view, so to speak.

How did he want the Empire to look two generations from now? What needed to be done this year, this decade to make that dream reality? What challenges and threats would they be facing in 5, 10, or 50 years? These and many other questions were what both intimidated and thrilled him.

During the first many years of rule, Ztar focused on acquisition and control. While he had always been a strategic thinker, by necessity his planning range had been limited to generally 5 to 10 years out. Quickly become large and strong enough to thwart all but the most overwhelming of potential threats was the theme. The universe was a dangerous place for the small and weak. After 15 years of empire building, he had forged a realm capable of defending itself well enough to give pause to anyone with desirous intent on his sector of the galaxy. The war with the Commonwealth proved the Empire's mettle. That conflict was a unifying force, and Ztar believed without having gone through those difficult four years, moving to a new form of government would not have been possible.

Admittedly, the war could have as easily become the event that shattered all he had built. Worlds forced together by his will and military might could have easily decided to join the Commonwealth and defy him. With a few exceptions, that had not occurred. Whether out of fear, self-interest, or true allegiance, the vast majority of the over 130 inhabited worlds aware of their place within the Empire fought on the side of the Empire. Ztar credited many things for that – the trustworthy leadership he had installed, the dignified treatment of those who had bowed to his will, the justice of imperial rule, and the security and economic benefits of residing within a stable and powerful realm.

True, Ztar had been harsh to those who continued to defy him, but that is the way of conquest. Most soon learned an important lesson from the more compliant worlds – live peaceable and accept imperial rule and your life can improve dramatically. That was always the carrot that followed his sword. No complying world or small realm remained in shambles after subjugation. No world was ignored or left technologically behind. No world's culture supplanted or history eradicated. Ztar learned from the mistakes of past conquerors. Taking a defeated people's dignity and heritage leads only to deeper hatred. Hatred breeds rebellion. Ztar had no time for rebellion. He had an Empire to build.

But beware if you slapped away Ztar's gifts. Offend the open hand extended once the sword was sheathed and the repercussions were swift and highly undesirable.

While joining the Empire was often a shotgun wedding, it usually became mutually beneficial – one of the offshoots of _strategic_ acquisition. And thus, when the Commonwealth declared war, nearly all of the imperial worlds fought on Ztar's side. Once peace came again, Ztar took advantage of the unity war fostered and moved his realm to the next phase. He wanted an Empire that systems joined of free will…a safe haven in a dangerous universe. The future was to grow through merger. Thus far, it seemed to be working – the Parma-Sentois Alliance entry would soon be final following a concerted joint effort to rid that realm of the most egregious Etagllot influence. That would add another seven inhabited, technically advanced worlds to the Empire. Ztar smiled in satisfaction at the first of what he hoped were many such joinings.

Ztar pulled his mind from reminiscing back to the duties of the day. Sukja understood Ztar's priorities and filtered the multitude of vying requests for Ztar's time accordingly. Thus, when the Ozjaerian flagged a scientific report from the prestigious Cuquerel Astronomical Institute regarding the supermassive black hole at the center of the galaxy, Ztar's interest was immediately piqued. The intro to the report recapped information he already knew. The Empire was roughly 25,000 light years from the spacetime singularity named S001. That figure represented the minimum time for any light-speed particles or phenomena to reach the edge of his realm, but probes sent to the galactic center long before Ztar's birth recorded events and transmitted that data via subspace nearly instantly.

Remnant effects indicated S001 emitted a massive flare roughly 27,000 years ago. A far lesser expulsion occurred approximately 15,000 years past; that particle wave still raced toward the Empire. Between times, the monster quieted, almost falling asleep. But if the scientists were correct, the giant began stirring 2000 years ago. Since then, minor flares were occurring at increasingly frequent intervals. The relatively small flares created little concern since several had occurred in the last 500 years with no ill affect on normal or subspace. But if the scientists at Cuquerel were right, that was changing. Flares of greater strength and duration were recorded over the last 300 years, the strongest and most recent being roughly 70 years ago. "The monster is rattling its cage," the report declared boldly.

In very disquieting descriptions, the report offered a worst-case scenario should a flare the intensity of the one of 27,000 years prior was to erupt. Subspace could be affected instantaneously by a massive flare; disrupting communications for an unpredictable span of time. That would be disastrous. Interstellar civilizations were only feasible because of two discoveries – subspace communications and faster-than-light travel.

If communications were disrupted for an extended period, all Ztar worked for could be lost at nature's whim. Yet a flare of that magnitude may not hit for another 10,000 years. Or it could happen tomorrow. The Turzent Emperor swallowed hard with the realization of how truly insignificant he was in the great universe.

This was one of the very challenges Ztar had positioned himself to tackle. Cuquerel urged additional research in methods for overcoming normal and subspace affects of a major flare. He would heed the advice, but he wanted independent review of the conclusions, as well. If Cuquerel's opinion was validated, he would funnel whatever resources were needed to combat the threat. Ztar would become the driving force to ensure the Empire was as prepared as possible for the evitable.

With a sigh to natural phenomena no one can control, Ztar moved on to another report that held information of events equally out of his control – turbulence within their largest neighbor. Unlike the solidarity of the post-war Turzent Empire, the federation of independent worlds called The System Commonwealth showed signs of unraveling and the reasons were unclear. Monitoring of their comnet broadcasts offered a myriad of publicized criticisms of the loosely overseeing parliament and unified military. MI sifted through the thousands of data bits to determine the fundamental issues, or at least their opinion of the root of the discontent…lack of guiding and envisioned leadership. Without a trusted, unifying force, the Commonwealth remained a loose-knit and often disjointed conglomeration of independent worlds. Apparently, some worlds were clamoring for a stronger government, while others felt less oversight was necessary, citing the contrived war declared against the Turzent Empire as an example of power abuse.

Ztar recognized potential failings long ago in the Commonwealth, and he worked hard to avoid them in his new imperiocratic government. The very star system independence the Commonwealth boasted was also its greatest weakness. Too many voices vying to be heard and wield the greatest influence. One voice…one vision…one final authority providing guidance – there was none. Ztar and his Court believed people want control over their daily affairs and to preserve what they hold precious, but they wish to do so within a framework of a strong supporting structure. And they yearn for someone to lead them toward a stable and fulfilling future for their children. Ztar intended to give his people those things. It was what he was destined to do. He believed that to his core.

On his PI, Ztar read the detailed assessment of the state of their neighbor and it was not encouraging. Commonwealth leadership and its unified military suffered from lack of public confidence even more so after the ill-conceived war. Various systems were hinting with increasing frequency of seceding from the Commonwealth. Some spoke of creating a new federation. Others, surprisingly, spoke of opening talks with the Turzent Empire, particularly worlds bordering the Barrens. One system regent actually pointed to the recent voluntary additions to the Empire – the Raisil Unity and Etabre Collective, as well as the upcoming Parma-Sentois Alliance joining – stating that these systems were quite pleased with the new government that had been created and enacted with what he called "amazing speed and efficiency." That brought a smile to Ztar.

The smile faded when he considered the ramifications should Commonwealth systems start knocking on his door. Of course, it may all be political rhetoric spewed only to leverage change, but MI's analysis emphasized there may be substance behind the words.

Ztar leaned back in the chair of his traveling office aboard the Mi-Lartui as it sped toward his throneworld, Sat'rey. Extreme scenarios of the future rose up to face him. What would it mean if the Commonwealth collapsed or if civil war broke out? What would be the political outfall if border systems did come seeking inclusion in the Empire? Membership in the Commonwealth _was_ voluntary, or so it was claimed. If Ztar welcomed seceding systems, would their neighbors view the encroaching Turzent Empire as a threat? Would that cause the remaining Commonwealth to rattle the sabers of war once again? Complex issues, multifaceted challenges, political outfall, and countless variables with unpredictable outcomes – these were the very things he must anticipate and plan for.

He had described his vision for the Empire as a unity that worlds sought to join. Did the current destabilization of the Commonwealth feed into that vision? On the surface, yes. But one must grow carefully and not risk all gains with incompatible amalgamations. Do not expand so rapidly that systems, processes, and resources cannot cope. Strategic expansion had been the hallmark of his reign. It was not a principle he would abandon. Ztar would no longer create enemies for growth's sake. Instead, if any Commonwealth system came asking for membership and Ztar and his advisors believed it beneficial, he would first ensure the neighboring star systems were comfortable with the nearby change of alliance.

He pulled himself back from the speculative to the real. Par-Sen Alliance merger and Cuquerel alert first. The Emperor would wait to see what transpired on the Commonwealth front while planning for as many scenarios as seemed likely.

Just then, a tone sounded indicating a comm from Jharda. His heart leapt in anticipation. Their long-distance chats were the highlight of each day. Hopefully, she would be returning to Sat'rey soon. With a smile and anticipation, he activated the holo-projector and settled in to hear all she had to share.

###

She circled the stasis pod containing her new test subject. The containment vessel was a bit oversized from standard to accommodate the unique physical features of its occupant – extra wide with a unique support structure for a being not designed to lie on its back for long periods. She was amazed at the likeness to one of her previous test subjects. They could be siblings, or perhaps parent-child.

The female was breathtakingly beautiful to al'Verta's aesthetic tastes despite being a different species. Her mixed-genus staff had similar reactions – an almost instinctual response to the being lying before them. Several scientists had stared transfixed through the clear enclosure for a long time, whispering of myths and legends from their cultural pasts. For reasons unknown, the creature seemed to be universally appealing, as if triggering some deep-seated psychological response. She'd experienced similar sensations at seeing Archangel the first time, though less intense. The female test subject, known only as E5, garnered far stronger reactions. Archangel was magnificent – E5 was…awe-inspiring, even after several years in stasis…and in spite of the fact she was dying.

Yes, the ethereal creature before her, whom Director Sident stated was confirmed as Eshaaru, was slowly expiring. Little by little, her lifeforce was seeping away. E5's file stated that prior to be placed in status, the Eshaaru had begun a form of suicide where the species dissipated their lifeforce energy. It was not a fast process, thankfully for her Etagllot captors. The scientists were able to place the Eshaaru into deep stasis. Unfortunately, that only slowed the process to a crawl – it did not prevent the inevitable.

How she wished they could find a way to save the winged being. So many species spoke of them – heralds of the gods, wise and benevolent visitors, ancient advanced races…saviors of civilizations, bearers of amazing gifts from the heavens. The explanations of their presence in the history of various sentient species were many. But as the Director explained, they were nearly extinct. To emphasize the preciousness of E5, he shared that her newest project resource was one of only a handful encountered over the past 500 years. Eshaaru had long ago ceased interacting with other races. Thus, they had fallen into the realm of myth and legend over time.

"Couldn't they simply be in hiding? The galaxy offers unlimited opportunity for that," she hypothesized.

"I raised the same possibility myself," the man admitted, "but it was explained those Eshaaru that remain search for any of their own people as well. While still a possibility most emigrated from this galaxy, it really doesn't matter. Here they are on the verge of extinction for reasons unknown, at least to me." Sident's voice carried tones of sadness. It was likely the Eshaaru had touched something within him as well. "Bring no harm to this one, Hercjell." The tone changed abruptly with that statement. It was firm and hinted of dire consequences if not heeded.

As any good scientist, she set aside emotions for the serious work at hand. They anticipated having the E5 only a couple more years before she expired. Every day had to count. The ultimate goal of her project had finally been revealed – the Etagllot leaders wanted bionites that could channel the energy the Eshaaru did. They wanted those bionites to be controllable via brain interface. In other words, they wanted to be able to do what Eshaaru did naturally – channel lifeforce energy and do so in vast amounts.

She read the background data on E5 and it had only deepened the mystique. Eshaaru were energy channelers. Bio-conduits allowed energy to pass through their bodies in trickles or massive outflows. Etagllot scientist had discovered Eshaarus tap into a vast energy source from another reality through a dimensional portal that opened naturally to the species whenever they manifested.

One significant concern had not been addressed it the background report. "What of the non-Eshaaru host for the bionites – won't the channeler be destroyed by that amount of energy?" she'd asked.

The Director had given her one of those looks and al'Verta knew what was coming.

"Other teams are working on appropriate hosts. Your team's assignment is to take the bionites you developed in the first stage of the project and refine them to the final specifications using the Eshaaru to calibrate to the correct energy frequency. Beyond that is not your concern."

al'Verta would proceed with extreme caution. She understood all too clearly that her career likely depended on the Eshaaru surviving the time spent in her care. Then she set about preparing for the arrival of the balance of her new team and departure for their new facility beyond the Turzent Empire and away from the unrelenting persecution by imperial forces.

###

Ettwanae loved storms. The wind and lightening sent chills of thrill through her. She sensed it before the darkness brewing beyond the horizon was visible and it had pulled her out while everyone else was busy doing whatever to pass the time within Volu's safe cocoon. There was some danger standing out on the knoll as the tallest object for some distance, but it was part of the thrill. Besides, it would take a powerful direct lightening strike to be fatal. Eshaaru were hard to kill, or that's what Volu had told her on more than one occasion. If beheaded, no amount of enhanced healing could save her. Even if struck, she'd already experienced horrific pain from the failed bonding attempts and physical agony no longer frightened her so much – it passed. Feather damage was of greater concern, but she was heading into a molt and singed feathers would be replaced.

Out on the vast, uninhabited plain, she had decided not to active her cloak. Ettwanae wanted to greet the storm in her natural form. Tucking wings tightly to her back, she ran full out to the top of the rise. Arriving at the crest, she came to a halt, her face to the storm's outflow. Arms stretched wide, wings spread to half their reach, she let the rapidly cooling winds rush over her. The air smelled of ozone and rain, wetted dirt and dust. Thunder rumbled constantly as lightening flashed cloud to cloud and ground to cloud as the dark veil approached. She drank it in and nearly vibrated with the intensity of the atmospheric wildness that spoke to her very soul. The tumultuous skies called to her – come surf my invisible waves, but that was too much risk even for her. And so she remained on the ground, feeling almost drunk as the approaching power flowed to and through her.

It had been a long time since she last stood before nature's wet fury. Too long. She had needed this without knowing it. She loved the days her and Baumpa stood on the roof of their shop and watched the winter rains roll in – lightening slicing the dark sky, thunder reverberating in their chests. Most times, they'd duck inside just ahead of the rain wave. Others times, they'd let themselves be caught by the downpour, laughing with childlike delight as clothes and hair and concealed wings were drenched. Then they'd head inside, dripping water everywhere. "It's water – it will evaporate," Baumpa would say chuckling as they peeled out of their wet garments. He'd help her dry the wings – one of the few times she dropped her cloak for any length of time. While the feathers were water resistant, they still held onto some of the liquid. A few sharp flaps and a gentle toweling down by Baumpa, and the wet feather smell diminished greatly. She loved it when he gently ran the cloth down their white length – it felt so soothing and fatherly. If only she could drop the cloak forever – just be what she was, but her adoptive father was strict about that. No one was to know who she really was.

A boom of thunder shattered the reminiscing. The cracks of lightening were loud now and the resulting thunder pounded against her breast. Wind tore at her clothing, hair, and wings. She pulled her feathered limbs close. Shutting her eyes and extending her awareness, she reached out to the storm and imagined the roaring updrafts and plunging downdrafts. She felt the air boil and the water droplets riding chaotic currents, growing as they collided together until becoming too heavy to remain aloft. The first spits of rain hit her and she opened her eyes to see the storm had advanced dramatically. The air was much cooler and shivers ran through her as cold droplets began pelting her body. The grayish sheet of rain approached rapidly. If she did not return to Volu soon, she'd get drenched. 'And what's wrong with that?' she giggled to herself.

###

Warren wondered where Ettwanae disappeared to and Volu provided the answer. From the bay door, he watched her slender silhouette. Wings spread, golden hair whipping in the wind, arms open as if welcoming the storm, she stood before the darkness of the approaching tempest, lightening dancing in the distance beyond. She was a magnificent sight…it took his breath away.

They'd come to the planet so Warren and she could sate their need for the sky. Est'El was the nearest possibility along their general path to Ayni. The small world had no native population, Volu explained, but had been colonized long ago. The populace was concentrated at the planet's shorelines, with the vast interior plains of its single continent left as a natural preserve.

Once Warren got of taste of Est'El's cerulean sky, he suggested they stay a couple days. The alien planet had granted them a bonus – a thunderstorm. Not until you've been in the sterile environment of a spaceship do you truly appreciate the embrace of weather.

Nature's drum roll rumbling across the plain announced the special event. Tepid, moist wind caressed his face and arms. He took a deep inhale, relishing the smell of the ionized air. 'Yes, it had been a good idea to stay or we would have missed this.' Then a different thought stole his breath. 'Lightening!' On the knoll, Ettwanae was the tallest thing around for miles. 'Shit, doesn't she know how dangerous that is?' She was too far away to yell. "Volu, shouldn't she get off the hill?"

"It would be safer to do so."

Warren was puzzled at the nonchalant reply. "Maybe you should call her?"

"Maybe you should retrieve her."

Volu's on again/off again attitude toward their half-relationship he hadn't yet figured out. Some days, it was as if she wanted Warren gone. Other times, Volu nearly shoved them together. Today, she was obviously pro Warren/Ettwanae. However, getting wet wasn't his favorite activity. In fact, Warren avoided it with a passion that would put most felines to shame – except for showering, which of course was a necessity…or a sensual pleasure, as was the case aboard Volu.

"The storm goes close," Volu prompted at his hesitation. He could almost feel the sly smirk.

"Shit," he chose to vocalize and threw himself into the air, staying low to lessen the odds of becoming a lightening rod.

Rapidly closing the gap between them, Warren's eyes remained transfixed on Ettwanae despite the rain stinging his face. She looked wild and free even just standing there. His throat tightened as that now familiar tingly warmth spread through him. "Ettwanae!" he called out ahead, but it was lost to the wind and thunder. As he started pulling up to land, she whirled toward him, a gleeful grin on her face, the blue eyes dancing with excitement.

"Warren!" she squealed in delight. "Is this _wonderful_? We're so lucky the storm is happening while we're here!"

The rain was coming much harder now and Warren eyed the rain sheet that was only moments away. He groaned in anticipation of the "joy" of wet feathers. Ettwanae nearly jumped to his side and threw herself into his arms, just ahead of the deluge, laughing. Then it hit and they were instantly soaked to the skin. The rain roared down around them, cool but not cold. She turned her face toward the heavens, catching rain in her mouth, eyes closed. He wasn't sure what to do. She was loving it. He felt like a drowned rat, only with feathers…very large, soaked feathers.

She turned away from the rain, opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as it pelted her face, and looked into his eyes. "Come on, Warren. Baumpa showed me the dance ancient Sat'reyans performed in the first rain of the season." She stepped back and yanked gently on his arm. Another brilliant flash followed instantly by the snap/boom of thunder, startling them both and sending vibrations to the bone. 'Too close,' he worried. She seemed oblivious to the danger.

Ettwanae began a dance that was similar to a Native American one he'd seen once, somewhere that he could no longer recall. She began prancing, rising knees high, arms in swinging in large arcs, head slightly down, and wings spread slightly as a counter-balance to her forward leaps. Golden hair now plastered to her head, the rain followed it down in rivulets to become droplets once again as it flew off the ends of her swaying locks. Wet clothes clung to every curve, every tantalizing female undulation. He sucked in a breath as his body reacted to the sight.

She completed a circle around him before looking up again. "Dance with me!" Her expression matched the exuberant request.

"I- I don't dance." Then he kicked himself. What a lame excuse.

A look of determination came over the beautiful, wet face. "Then we'll try something else!" Another flash and boom. At least they were coming with less frequency and sounded more distant.

She grabbed his hands and started spinning, pulling on him slightly. 'Ah!' He knew this one. Spin as fast as you can around the center point of your joined hands until one or both are too dizzy to stand. Her laughter joined with the rain and they spun. The alien world around them became a blur. Faster still. Powerful Eshaaru and mutant muscles kept hands locked together as they whirled. He started to laugh as well. He hadn't done this since he was a young child. Then suddenly, she let go and they went flying to the ground. The impact took his breath away, but the tall plains grasses provided surprisingly soft landing. Before he had time to sit up, she'd scrambled next to him, pushed him back into the grass, and clamped her mouth down on his.

The term spontaneous combustion sprang to mind. In fact, he briefly considered whether or not the grass would catch fire despite its wet condition. Her hands were all over his body and his over hers, as they plunged into a deep kiss. Lightening pierced the heavens, sending sound waves rolling across the alien prairie. The wind suddenly changed direction as the worst of the storm passed.

Knowledge that the tryst was self-limiting didn't stop them as the urge the mate overwhelmed all caution. She snaked on top of him, rubbing her groin against his growing shaft. Burning need erupted from every pore of his body. He almost didn't know where to grab, what to caress first on the lithe body above him. He wanted to touch everywhere at once. Warren settled for wrapping his arms around her and pressing her as tight to his body as possible without breaking something. The feel of her against his now full erection was agony and bliss at the same time. They needed out of the clothes. Now.

As if reading his mind, Ettwanae began tearing at her clothes, somehow managing to extricate herself from her top while never stopping the kissing and nipping. She never wore a bra. In fact, Warren wasn't sure she knew what that contraption was. Neither did Gatebi, for that matter. It was one less article to shed and once her top lay forgotten in the wet grass, he rewarded her effort by working his mouth from hers, down the neck, licking at some of the rain trickles running down her skin. Lower still, to the collarbone and the small hollow at the base of her throat. She arched up from him in anticipation and invitation.

He quickly took the invitation one step farther and nimbly rolled them over; carefully though to not trap a wing uncomfortably, until she was pinned beneath him. The crystalline-blue eyes looking up at him burned with carnal hunger, their hue deepening as lust grew. She began fumbling at his waistband, her fingers finding their target and popped the button. Warren returned to the path he'd begun until he reached the first full breast, swirling his tongue around the peak. She inhaled sharply and her hips rose up. "Oh, goddess!" she moaned, eyes closing in ecstasy. Yet her fingers never stopped their work. The zipper didn't stand a chance as she simply pulled the two sides of fabric opposite directions and the metal teeth separated with a ripping sound.

Warren took the supple mound of flesh into his mouth and suckled it, causing Ettwanae to moan again and squirm. She tasted wonderful and smelled even better. The scent wasn't anything he could describe, but it moved him somewhere deep within, pushing need and lust to higher levels. All he wanted was to merge with the beautiful creature lying half-naked with him on the open prairie beneath the summer storm.

Hooking his thumbs over the top of her stretchers as she called them, he tugged the unwanted garment over her hips. The aptly named garment slid around her hips as she raised her lower body up to assist. All the while, she was working his less cooperative, rain-soaked jeans down.

The craving for each other after their last disastrous attempt to bond had eaten at their insides, but wariness had kept them apart. Warren now threw caution to the winds as Ettwanae wiggled against him. Urgency crept in – at any moment, Ura could bring things to a screeching halt. In a sudden flurry of movement, they freed themselves from the pesky garments and re-entwined their bodies and mouths with renewed vigor.

Feral instincts rose briefly, apprehensive of their exposed and vulnerable position, but instincts of another variety ignored the warning. Warren let himself go – higher thinking evaporated. He welcomed the mindless abandon with open arms, embracing the pure animalistic impulses. Instincts to protect his mate demanded one last safety check, and he briefly scanned their surroundings, but his mouth never left hers. Finding no lurking threats, wings moved into position automatically to create a canopy of white to shield their actions from unseen eyes.

Riding the carnal waves, he devoured Ettwanae. Hands, fingertips, mouth, lips, tongue – they went everywhere. It felt as though he was burning alive with passionate heat, but it was a delirious burn. "Ettwanae," he breathed her name and it felt like fire leaving his lips. Suddenly, something clicked deep in his brain and in a rush of sensation, everything snapped to crystal clarity. Smell, sight, touch, hearing, taste – all magnified to almost painful intensity. She tasted slightly salty, and smelled of skin and feather, grass and rain. Goosebumps formed on her skin wherever his tongue and lips trailed. There was a musky scent emanating from her that plucked a feral cord. He took her in with even more intensity; sensation nearly drowning him. It mattered not at all. It was right and perfect.

And the rain eased to a gentle shower as one last sharp retort of thunder shook the ground.

She spread wide…wings and legs…offering herself, shuddering from need and want. Ettwanae's fingertips dug into his wing bases, hitting those perfect points, and his wings expanded of their own accord to their full glory as he groaned into her mouth. He couldn't wait any longer. Nature was demanding completion of what they started. Then a corner of his lucid mind regained control and shouted warning as pain began snaking through his gut. Feral senses snapped off as quickly as they'd turned on. The world spun momentarily from the switch in control.

He jerked and somehow found the will to bring things to a halt. Ettwanae caught his gaze with questioning eyes. Her hands left his wings and landed to either side of his face, but she remained silent, biting her lip. Closing his eyes, he lowered his forehead to hers. "We can't," he forced the words passed the panting desire. Body and soul ached for it to be otherwise.

"_Try_," she whimpered.

He shook his head slightly. Water trickled down his face and dropped to hers – it would hide the hot tears he felt forming from the pain and injustice. "I don't want to hurt you," he explained.

"I don't care! _Please_ try, Warren," she pleaded, wrapping her legs around his to pull him toward where she wanted things to go.

He brought his mouth down on hers to quiet the pleas. If she didn't stop, he'd give in and they'd both regret it – painfully so. He focused on the discomfort in his groin from the need to release to remind him of what not to do. Her kissing was now desperate in a new way, perhaps hoping to override his protest, but he wouldn't allow that to happen. Then, as he knew it would, the non-physical pain from that deep place began to escalate and from the sudden tension in her body, it had hit Ettwanae as well.

Warren eased himself off, noting that the rising Ura was also quite effective in deflating his arousal. The rain was merely a sprinkle as he pulled on the waterlogged jeans. He wouldn't bother with the shoes or T shirt. Ettwanae had sat up as he dressed, but didn't move to do likewise. She simply watched him, her eyes dull as if trying to detach from the hurt. He recognized the expression – those were his eyes for the first four years under Ztar's control. Detachment helps you cope. He prayed he would not see that in her eyes too frequently. Kneeling down, he placed a finger under the delicate chin to force her to look him in the eye.

"We'll find a way, Ettwanae. I want it as much as you – more each day. I'm sorry I messed up this Ura business with Ztar. If I had known what was happening that night…" He could only shake his head at the whys and hows.

Sadness overwrote detachment as she brushed back the wet hair that hung in his eyes. "It was _not_ your fault. Please don't feel guilty." She dropped her hand and reached for her clothes just as a bit of orange sun poked through the dissipating rain clouds, bathing them in its instant glow and warmth. She rose gracefully, with no hint of self-consciousness about standing nude in the middle of the open prairie. 'Does she have any idea how beautiful she is? How perfect?' he wondered as he watched from the ground as she slipped into her clothes, struggling a bit with the stretchers that weren't so accommodating when wet. Longing filled him all over again.

She wrung out her long hair, gave the wings several quick snaps to shed water and grass. Finally rising, he did likewise, hating the weight of wet feathers. "Want to fly back?" She shook her head and started back toward Volu. He watched her leave him behind with a heavy heart.

"It was wonderful while it lasted," he said to her retreating form. She stopped, but didn't turn immediately. He noticed her wings rise and fall slightly, as if she'd taken a deep breath and then exhaled. When she turned, he was greeted with a shining smile that put the sun to shame.

"It was, wasn't it?"

'God, I'd give away everything for that smile.' The intensity of feeling behind the errant thought startled him. Was he in love? Had it happened? Too soon to be certain, Warren decided. He returned the smile, then, "Race ya!" he shouted and took off like a dart, loving the surprise on her face as he sailed past.

The wind caught up her laughter as she took off after him.

###

Phai was pleased with the progress made over the past several weeks. The Eshaaru pair possessed a complete amulet. Of course, the pair could not fully activate the amulet until they could soulbind, but that problem was solvable. They had also discovered the power they could conjure together and its deadly affect on the Eilu. Archangel was close to extrication from the complication on Tchutchka Centrus. Their chosen unifier, Ztar, had been given a glimpse of the enemy and of the unseen forces working to influence events in his favor. The Etagllot scientists were making rapid strides toward realization of Project One. Omnipotent was the one area of less progress, but the completed amulet raised hopes of future successes on that front. The Commonwealth was continuing to destabilize, and well-placed influences were turning the eyes of restless systems toward the Turzent Empire.

Yes, Phai and the rest of the Council were generally pleased with the progress of their Trient. The question remained whether or not it was progress at a rapid enough pace. Would they be ready in time? Would critical mass be garnered before it was too late? What of the other two Trients? Would all the pieces be in place before The Dark Coming began?

The Elder of Elders circled her holographic Gantt chart. It was more complex than a simple chart, but the idea was the same – map progress of tasks against a timetable; only this timetable had an unknown end date. So much left to accomplish and perhaps little time in which to succeed. Most of the Elders felt The Dark Coming would not initiate for another hundred standard years or longer. She and Elder Kel felt the time was much nearer. Mistakes of the past would not be repeated and she believed warning signs would be suppressed this round in an attempt to lull them into believing they had the luxury of time. The other Elders believed it was not possible to suppress or mute the signs.

It all came down to speculation. No one alive knew. Perhaps the ancient U'larr would have known, but much of their knowledge was lost. The disastrous fallout from last Dark Coming had shattered U'larr culture, nearly extinguishing the great race and their avatars, the Esha'Aru. Nearly. So much time lost to the darkness of civilization collapse. So much sacrificed to simply survive. So much knowledge to be regained in a too short period. Desperation can lead to harsh methods.

Her predecessors had made mistakes and enemies in their desperation, making her and the current Council's work all that more challenging. Many paths were set upon and could not be altered, but those that could be shifted to gentler tactics, she and the new Council had. Sadly, the rift between Shozen and Esha'Aru was beyond bridging. If only… Phai sighed and shook her head.

Phai dismissed the holo chart with her mind and made her way outside to the colorful garden. Taking in a deep breath of sweetly scented air, she felt immediately calmer. The lush garden was a luxury she allowed herself on the otherwise desert planet she had chosen to dwell. Approaching the gravity defying vertical reflecting pool that formed the backdrop of her private refuge, she gazed into its liquid depths to view the form she had taken. It was a pleasing form – lithe beauty that belied its physical power. She felt the ancients would be pleased with her choice.

With sharp eyesight far exceeding most races, she focused on the reflection of her crystalline-blue eyes. Intense. Deep. Pure of color. Like that of the Esha'Aru. Or rather, as she personally believed, Esha'Aru eyes were like the Zchezuans…a likely donor race for the genetic recipe used in creating the winged avatars. No proof of her theory, but she liked to believe it was so. Perhaps someday, when they had the luxury of indulging such curiosities, she'd focus resources on determining all the ingredients in the genetic recipe. Not an easy task as the DNA used was altered and manipulated to realize the desired outcome down to the smallest molecule, but it would be satisfying to have the entire list of donor species.

She immersed herself in the watery images captured in the pool, its gentle undulations working their soothing magic. Phai found her thoughts drifting back to Archangel and Ettwanae. The only known (probable) Eshaaru pair in the Trient. So much rode on their unwitting shoulders. A frown crossed the perfect Zchezuan face. The couple faced many potential dangers, the greatest of which was the Eilu. If the Eilu had doubts before about the worth of the pairing, those questions were moot after Neu.

Sighing, the Elder knew they must be extra vigilant in monitoring of the pair. If captured or killed by the Eilu, a key element in the coming conflict would be lost. The backup plan, Project Failsafe, was close to success, yet there was no guarantee the constructs would be accepted. And so, at the top of Phai's list was protection of Archangel and Ettwanae, yet they must do so from a discreet distance. The pair must believe without doubt that they were in control of their own fate or the effort was meaningless.

To protect, she must know their whereabouts. For that, she would turn to the one individual who only rarely failed. Den-neer. A product of advanced genetics. His genome carefully selected for just the right combination of traits – telekinesis, telepathy, agility of mind and body, strength deceptively hidden within a lithe form. He got that last from Phai herself. Raised personally by her from the incubation tube through accelerated childhood into adulthood, his abilities were nurtured and his mind and body trained under her personal direction. She loved him as a son. A powerful and lethal son.

Den-neer matured to become the personal weapon and operative of the Council. Phai entrusted him with more knowledge than any other beyond the Elders. He was the only operative who moved freely among the various factions and players in the elaborate and deadly game, but was truly known by none. The only operative, witting or otherwise, that knew for whom he ultimately was working. The singular tool in the Elders' arsenal that knew who they really were. It was a secret he would not reveal upon torture or threat of death.

Phai turned from the pool and moved back inside her sparsely furnished abode. Yes, she had entrusted Den neer with a single mission from Neu forward – watch over the Eshaaru. The trick, though, was knowing where they were. That is were the vast network built by the Elders over thousands of years came into play. There were very few places within the Trient the Eshaaru could go without eventually being detected.

###

They were enjoying hungry, ravaging, wild sex. The pressure-cooker of built-up sexual tension released as gut-wrenching need was at long last sated, and it was joyous. He devoured her, and she him, as they finally became one. He plunged in and out of her in delirious rapture, and her orgasmic cry like an angel's siren call. Then they wanted more and began anew.

Without warning, Ettwanae was savagely ripped from his arms, screaming in panic as black tendrils ensnared her. He was desperate to reach her, but unbreakable black strands held him immobile despite frantic struggles. Her screams pierced to the soul. His frenzied cries joined hers as she was dragged from sight into the darkness while he was powerless to save her. A primal scream erupted from the depths of his being, shattering the dream and sleep.

Warren bolted upright in bed, heart racing, and breathing quick and shallow. He had no time to catch his breath when Aru need slammed into him like a tsunami, forcing a groan from deep within him. "Ettwanae," he moaned her name as sexual desire rammed into overdrive.

He curled tightly into himself against the raging demands that consumed his body. Every fiber of his being demanded her, threatening to shatter willpower, evaporate logic, and trump reason. This was the worst it'd been. It frightened Warren to his core. 'Is this normal?' He felt as if fire burned under his skin. His groin throbbed and lust was a physical force that shook his body. 'Oh god, what if I lose control? How do fight this down?'

Tremors rippled through his body as another instinctual wave slammed into him. 'Ugghh!' Aru demanded and he must obey. To hell with what Ura denied! To hell with the searing pain that was the only possible outcome. Mindless instinct was sweeping him away like an angry river and he desperately reached for whatever mental rocks his could summon to stop the tumbling, but the fingers of his will couldn't hold on. Deep, carnal urges entwined themselves around his higher brain as they sought to wrest control. A snippet of recognition flitted through consciousness – feral brain!

The animal within pounded at the mental gate; the lock was giving way. He shuddered as the last of his determination slipped from his grasp when the third wave crushed him. She must be his. Mate. Breed. As the final shreds of higher thinking dissolved, he claimed one last moment lucidity.

"Volu, don't…open…the door…no matter what!" he cried out, his voice more of a growl – something not quite human.

The room drew in around him. Sight, smell, hearing – senses snapped to a clarity that was superhuman even for Warren. Her scent filled the air and it spoke of sexual readiness. A single purpose drove him, one reason for existence. Get out. Get to the female. Mate. He sprang off the bed toward the door and slammed into it. Blocked. Fists pummeled the taut membrane as snarls of rising frustration rolled from his throat.

He stepped back, narrowed eyes darting around the room. He needed something. What, his feral brain did not know. Just something. To hit with. Something…

Then a sound came from everywhere and froze him in place, only the eyes moved as he searched frantically for the threat. Crouching low, wings spread into attack position as the sound came again. Zeroing on the source, he sprang intent on killing the intruder.

Volu flinched as Warren attacked her vocal orifice.

###

Ettwanae was dreaming. She was in her lover's arms basking in the afterglow of a perfect mating. Love overflowed as she smiled at him. It was only slightly troubling that the man wasn't Warren for in her dream she knew Warren would be happy for her. Happy she'd be able to couple without pain. Then she looked more closely at the man. Who was he? Suddenly, fear began to rise.

"Who are you?" she demanded, struggling to escape his grip. He was not letting go.

"Does it matter? He can't be with you – I can."

She began to fight more desperately. "Let me go!" she yelled, but still he held her fast.

"You are mine now. Don't resist!"

Panic drove her to kick, bite, punch and he still held on.

"Warren! Help me!" With every ounce of her strength, she fought to escape. "War-_ren_!"

Ettwanae jolted up, shaking and sucking in air. 'Just a dream,' she told herself, her heart pounding against her chest. 'A dream.'

/ _My Poda, you are safe._ / Volu's soothing mental voice was like warm honey over her mind.

She nodded. / _I know. I'm okay._ /

Several moments passed in silence.

/ _We have a situation down the corridor, though._ /

Ettwanae was immediately alarmed. / _What kind of situation?_ /

/ _Warren is not himself. He has become violent._ /

"_What?_" Ettwanae asked aloud in disbelief.

"He is attempting to break out of his room after he told me not to let him out."

Ettwanae was confused. "Why would he tell you not to let him out? I don't understand."

"Neither did I. He also woke from a dream, but then his bio signs became extremely elevated and his hormonal levels deviated from normal. I am also detecting that the frontal lobe of his brain is suppressed, while his limbic system is far more active."

She tossed aside the blanket and crawled out of bed. "Are you saying something is wrong with his brain?" The thought of Warren being ill drove panic straight to her core as she headed for the door not bothering to dress.

"I believe that the primitive portion of his brain has taken control."

As soon as her chamber door dilated open, she could hear frightening noises coming from down the corridor. She ran to the entrance of the small storage room turned bedchamber. Warren was pounding from the other side. Odd animal-like sounds sent chills down her spine. "Oh, goddess!" she called out. "Warren! Warren, it's Ettwanae. Are you okay?" An anguished howl/growl response further frightened her.

/ _This can't be Pkaw'ne, can it?_ / Ettwanae projected as she stared at the door that vibrated from the pummeling it was withstanding.

/ _Parts of his brain are behaving as such, but other areas are not. Warren is being too aggressive and Pkaw'ne occurs only between bound pairs. I have no record of in my Eshaaru medical memories of this specific behavioral display._ /

Flint was the first to stumble out of his room at the raucous. "What the fuck is going-" He stopped in mid sentence and his eyes widened at the sight of a naked Ettwanae. "_Shit!_" He ducked back into his room at lightening speed. "Sorry, Twae! Sorry! But what the hell is _happenin'_?" he yelled from his room.

"Warren is ill."

"That's not ill, that's berserk!"

Animal-like screeches followed their exchange that had obviously served to further agitate the creature on the other side of the door.

Wrapped in a robe, Gatebi padded down the hall, her face a mix of concern and grogginess. "Ettwanae?"

"It's Warren – something has happened to him!" Her voice was shakier than she meant it to be, fear growing with each fist against the door and every guttural growl. "Volu, let me in. Maybe I can calm him," Ettwanae requested in quiet tones.

"That would be unwise. He is not in control of himself."

"He won't hurt me. I know it."

"Warren would not, but that is not Warren at the moment." Volu's concern came through clearly in the whispered words.

"Perhaps talking to him?" Gatebi suggested softly glancing toward Warren's door. It had gone strangely quiet.

Ettwanae nodded and sank to the floor, her shaking legs unable to hold her up. Gatebi knelt next to her.

###

The sounds from the beyond the barrier were low and consistent. Some of the sounds belonged to what he wanted, that much registered, but there were others. Caution. Territorial threat. He quieted to listen. Was she in danger? Protect!

###

/ _Poda, I can stun him or apply a mild shock to his brain, either could rebalance brain activity._ /

/ _I want to try Gatebi's suggestion first. If that doesn't work, then we'll try shocking him._ /

/ _Agreeable for the moment. However, we should not allow the condition to continue long._ /

"Warren, can you hear me?" Nothing. / _What's he doing? _/

/ _You have his attention. He may still recognize your voice._ /

"Warren, it's me, Ettwanae. It's okay. Everything is okay. Can you come to the door? Sit down?" She didn't really know what to say, only that she needed to sound calm. No response. She leaned closer to the door and spoke even more softly. "Warren, please come and sit by the door. We can talk – or I'll just talk and you listen. Please, Warren?"

Still nothing.

###

Animal Warren cocked his head. She did not sound fearful or injured, but a barricade stood between them. Danger signals fading quickly in his primitive brain, carnal urges resurrected. He edged toward the obstruction. Memories of prior futile attempts were not stored. Leaping at the barrier to his mate, he attacked it as if he hadn't done so before.

###

Ettwanae and Gatebi jumped when Warren collided with the door and fists began beating in renewed vigor, complete with hair-raising howls.

"Warren, no! _Please_…be calm." Tears filled Ettwanae's eyes. What was happening to her intended?

/ _Ettwanae, I must act. I fear the longer his brain is operating in this mode, the more difficult it will be to bring him out of it._ /

"Do it, Volu," she agreed, her chest tightening to the point she could barely draw a breath. What if they couldn't bring Warren back?

###

Warren's first awareness was blurry faces above him, but they snapped to clarity almost instantly. Ettwanae, Gatebi, and Flint all hovered over him. Confusion came next.

"What…?" he croaked. His mouth was pasty and his throat dry.

"Thank you, goddess!" Ettwanae breathed.

She sounded extremely relieved. "What happened?" he asked again, attempting to sit up. Lying on the floor atop his wings was not comfortable. As the trio helped him upright, momentary dizziness swept over him. His brain felt weird – almost numb. He shook his head.

"You had an…episode." Ettwanae offered vaguely, deep concern in the form of a frown marred the perfect face.

He tried remembering what happened, but recall was elusive. A flash here, a snippet there, mostly feelings of…what? Anger? Lust? It didn't make sense. As his mind began to process the situation, the questions started. "What's that mean? What time is it? How'd I get on the floor?"

"First, let's get you in bed, then we'll answer questions," Ettwanae ordered, wrapping her arm around behind and under the wings to haul him up almost entirely on her own. He quickly found his legs like wet noodles and not to be trusted. His head still felt odd – pressurized – like an eardrum that needed to pop.

Settling him on the bed and pushing him back gently into the pillows, Ettwanae pulled up the covers. Her robe popped open to expose her chest as she fussed. Brilliant lust flared in a microsecond eclipsing thought and reason as the pressure in his brain released. He grabbed and pulled her down into a fiery kiss. MATE! His mouth clamped around hers, but the object of his driving need mumbled and attempted to push away. Her wings rose behind her as she tried to wrestle free. A hand behind her head kept the mouth in place and an arm around her waist held her body onto his. Fire burned under his skin and in his groin. The taste of her mouth and the feel of her breasts against his bare chest sent primal desire soaring.

"God, there they go again! Let 'em fuck – that's all I can say!" Flint said, throwing his hands in the air signaling disgust. "Worse than a couple bitches in heat," he said departing the room shaking his head.

"Flint, help me!" Gatebi yelled after the teen.

"No – let them go at it; then this shit'll be over!"

"_Flint!_" Gatebi called again, but he turned into his room without a look in her direction.

Ettwanae's muffled cries prodded Gatebi into action. She jumped next to Ettwanae, trying break Warren's grip. "Warren! Let her _go_!" she shouted, pounding at his hands when pulling failed.

Warren distantly heard the other female and felt her attempts to dislodge his grip. He would not be distracted. Without warning, pain shot through him causing every nerve in his body to scream and he yowled at the agony in a voice neither Human nor Eshaaru.

###

Ettwanae broke free and jumped back, bringing her hand to her smarting lips. Any bruising would fade quickly, but pain wasn't what had her shaking. It was what she felt in the crushing kiss – something completely out of control. If that is what he had wanted as he raged earlier on the other side of the door, thank the goddess Volu followed his wishes. If he'd gotten to her… She didn't want to think about what might have happened.

/ _Poda, I stunned him, but more gently. The limbic section of his brain has gone back to normal activity levels once again._ /

/ _Will it hold this time?_ /

/ _I cannot predict._ /

While he recovered, she thanked Gatebi for her efforts and sent her worried friend out of the room amid concerned protests. Looking at Warren curled into a fetal position on the bed, fear wrapped around her. Not fear for her safety, but dread of what could possibly be wrong. He must have known what was coming to have warned Volu. Had this happened before?

As she eased down on the bed, he uncurled to look up at her – his eyes dark with pain and something else. Then he scooted back to the opposite side of the mattress.

"Stay back," he said in a strangled whisper. "I- I don't know what's happening. I might hurt you."

His face reflected repulsion and confusion. Waves of protectiveness swept through her.

"You won't hurt me, Warren. It's okay," she reassured, reaching out to brush the hair from his eyes. He jerked away and then nearly tumbled out of the bed, only to sink to the floor against the wall.

"I lied, I think I know what's happening…" he said, color draining from his face. "My worst nightmare."

Ettwanae edged toward his side of the bed. / _Volu? What do I do? He looks…devastated._ /

/ _Talking is usually a good starting point. _/

/ _I know that, but what do I say? How do I handle this? _/

/ _Let your heart guide you._ /

Ettwanae decided to lie on her stomach on the mattress to be at his head level as he cowered on the floor. As much as she wanted to take him into her arms, she wouldn't touch him knowing it would only make things worst. "Talking about nightmares helps."

"Not this kind – this is not a figment of my unconscious. This is part of me I can't control." He wasn't looking at her, but down at the floor, shame radiating off him. "Are you hurt? Gatebi? Flint? God, if I hurt anyone…"

"Warren, you did not injure me or the others. You were not trying to hurt anyone. What do you remember?"

He rubbed his eyes and a tremor ran through him so intensely the disheveled hair hanging across his face quivered. "Just bits and pieces – emotions more than anything. I think…I think I tried to get out of here?" he asked more than stated. She nodded, but he still wasn't looking at her. "I needed to find you. I needed-" He stopped speaking and the wings came forward to wrap around him. "Leave me alone for a while, Ettwanae. I don't want to talk about it."

The voice didn't sound convincing. Did he did actually want to talk on some level? Something told her that was the case.

/ _Volu, any insights as to what happened?_ /

/ _The lower brain is the root of instinctual behaviors – survival and reproduction. That part of Warren's brain overwhelmed his higher brain where cognitive thought resides. My medical knowledge says that many sentient beings have such a brain structure, including Eshaaru. However, I find no memories of Eshaarus suffering from a disruption in the normal balance between the two levels. Without more intense scanning of Warren's brain structure, we cannot know why his limbic system overran the frontal lobe of his cerebral cortex._ /

/ _How it happened really doesn't matter at the moment, does it?_ /

/ _No. Warren's bio readings indicate extreme emotional distress; that is the immediate issue._ /

"Warren, I don't want to leave you alone right now. If you don't want to talk, we'll just sit quietly."

He didn't agree, but didn't object either. She took that as a good sign. And so she rested her head on her arms and simply lay there, listening to him breathe. What thoughts was he struggling with? What was he feeling? 'What would you be feeling?' she asked herself. 'Embarrassment, fear of losing control again, and fear of hurting those around me for starters. Maybe a feeling of being exposed, especially if it was part of me I hoped no one ever saw.' The minutes passed as she contemplated how she could help and when she should speak if he did not. Then a heavy sigh interrupted her ruminations.

"You should take me back to Earth. You've got the nodes, we accomplished that much. If something between us is triggering my feral brain, we can't stay together."

The idea shocked her. "What do you mean?"

Still not looking at her, he spoke to the floor. "That part of my brain has taken over before, but always during a hard molt when I'm emotionally ragged from the hormonal fluctuations. Maybe the same sort of setup is being created by the pull between us from the Aru/Ura business. That could weaken the wall that holds back that part." He sighed deeply, his breath shaky. "I _am_ a feral, Ettwanae. A blend of Human and animal. This is a problem most ferals face. Some more successfully keep the animal part in check. Others aren't so fortunate."

Finally, the eyes moved up to meet hers. She saw much in those eyes – worry, pain, shame.

"I've been one of the lucky ones – I usually don't have problems with that side, except during molting and then only the more intense ones. But now…I don't want to risk another episode; I could put everyone in danger. I could hurt someone." The shoulders sagged and Ettwanae added defeated to the list of emotions. "I sorry, Ettwanae, it's better if I leave."

###

He had weighed the pros and cons as he sat on the floor with Ettwanae watching quietly. He considered the safety of not only Ettwanae, but Flint and especially Gatebi. What if in an Aru-driven feral rage, he raped the Alcab? He'd never forgive himself. It would not matter in the least that he wasn't in control. It wouldn't matter if they couldn't actually copulate because of anatomical differences. The horror wouldn't be lessened for her. Nor for Ettwanae even though he might be prevented from completing the act by Ura, the attempt alone would be traumatic.

Yes, Volu could stop him, but only if they were aboard or nearby when it happened. What if a feral episode occurred off-ship?

No question – he had to leave. That meant giving up his slim hope of finding a remedy for the nannites. Yet he'd lived with them for years and they had remained dormant. And so the decision was made. All he had to do was convince Ettwanae it was for the best. He wasn't meeting with much success despite having explained his reasoning.

"Warren, no! Please, don't go! _Please!_ I'm not afraid – you wouldn't hurt _any_ of us." Her voice shook as she pleaded.

His room was oppressive and too warm and it had nothing to do with the environmental controls. "You don't know that. Even I don't that know. I won't risk it."

"But Volu can stop you – like she did before. Bring you back." She snatched up his hand and squeezed as they sat face-to-face on the floor. She had jumped off the bed as soon as he said he should go.

"And if it happens when we're not on Volu? No, I can't stay. We got the nodes, there's little more I can do unless we are bonded and that's not happening despite our best efforts. You need to find another soulbound or some other way to locate your people." He pulled his hand gently from hers. Aru was not something he wished to evoke.

"Another _soulbound_?" she sounded and looked incredulous. "That's not how it works, Warren. You and I are meant to be together – don't you realize how remarkable that is? With so few of us left…we may even be the last of our kind. To be also soulbounds is beyond coincidence. Ozshi'wanae's own hand has guided us to each other."

Warren recoiled at her words. She obviously still believed him to be Eshaaru. "That is _your_ belief. You and I are not a we. You are Eshaaru. I am Human. That could be the true crux of the problem with the bonding – have you considered that? Maybe we'll never bond because Ura knows I'm not Eshaaru."

Ettwanae looked as through he'd struck her. That Warren had never wavered from proclaiming his Humanity didn't seem to soften the blow. His chest tightened in empathy, but this had to be done.

Her head dropped and she stared down at her hands. "But I thought with everything…I thought perhaps you'd come to believe…"

"No matter how much you wish for me to be Eshaaru, I am not. What we are is a wonderful, amazing coincidence." He reached over and tilted her face up to his with a fingertip. "I wish it could be different between us, Ettwanae. You are joyful, intelligent, and beautiful inside and out, but our being together is bringing out in me something I cannot control. Yes, Volu could possibly keep the rest of you safe, but what if one day she can't put the genie back in the bottle?" He knew instantly she didn't understand the phrase. "What if one day, Warren doesn't reemerge? I've have seen that in a feral before and it is a frightening fate."

Her face clouded and he wondered if she was weighing her needs to be with him against the possibility of that need eventually leading to losing him completely. He hoped so; hoped she cared enough to let go of her dream of them together. She turned her head away. Her body shuddered. Warren waited patiently for her to speak again, watching her work to control the tears as he blinked back his own.

"What about the nannites? Don't you want to be free of them?" Her voice was the merest whisper.

"Of course I do, but I won't let selfish desire endanger you or the others."

Thick silence filled the room. She was contemplating again and he gave her the time to do so. Her crystalline-blue eyes searched his; reflecting shifting emotions, and then they closed in resignation. Finally, with an unsteady sigh, she stood.

"I love you," she whispered with tears falling down the perfect face. "I will always love you, Warren."

And she left. Warren's heart went with her. In that moment, the last of his doubts evaporated. "And I love you, Ettwanae," he confessed to the empty room as a sharp pain stabbed deep into his chest.

###

Ettwanae made her way to her quarters in a daze. Nothing seemed real. He couldn't be leaving. With everything they'd been through in their short time together, their bond had grown – she felt it. She crawled onto the bed, drew her knees up in a hug and the wings around her in a feathery shield. While tears flowed, sobs did not come. She was too numb for that.

"My Poda."

The gentle tones wrapped around her as softly as her wings. She didn't respond – too much effort. Volu did not speak again, perhaps sensing Ettwanae needed solitude. Warren's words replayed in her mind over and over. She searched desperately for any flaw in his reasoning, but it all came down to a choice to protect others. He was protecting them from himself. If Aru drives were indeed the cause of his feral side emerging, then she must let go to protect him from her as well.

"Volu, is he right that Aru's demand to mate caused the episode? Is that possible?"

There was hesitation, then "Yes, Poda, it is possible. That constant stress may be eroding the natural barriers between the two parts of his brain. Mating urges reside in the lower brain and have been a constant stressor since he joined us."

Then a spark of hope. "Can't you do something? Isn't there a way you can suppress it, like you did my first mating urge when we healed you?"

"That was a temporary situation where I could use electrical impulses to stun the portion of your brain involved, but only for a short time. In Warren, I would need to suppress the area long term. The ramifications could include destruction of his sex drive and may cause brain injury or even death."

"But we heal, Volu! His brain would heal," she argued.

"Yes, it might, but Warren is reacting differently than my medical knowledge can explain. I fear the tampering would result in unexpected complications."

The words were a death sentence for her dreams. She wouldn't risk him falling permanently into an animal state or worse because she wanted him with her. She loved him too much. Ettwanae told herself not to make him feel guilty or do anything to make the situation harder than it was. 'Let him go gracefully,' she told herself even though her heart was shattering.

Then within her white cocoon, Ettwanae sobbed, wishing her Baumpa were there to hold her as he did when she was little and hurting.

###

Monitoring through her visual and audio sensor array, Volu ached with empathic pain. How she wished she could embrace her Poda in comfort. There were times when she wasn't what Ettwanae needed. Ettwanae needed another Eshaaru. Ettwanae needed Warren.

###

_A/N: Next time…last chapter of Soulbound. The second blow is about to slam into Warren. _


	40. Chapter 39

_A/N: The final chapter – can you believe it? A couple last issues to address and then the second blow hits Warren and sends him into an emotional maelstrom. Without further ado… _

**Chapter 39**

Ta'uii stirred. Awareness was contained within a single ignited node. Determine status. Energy levels dangerously low. Power flux likely. Expenditure unjustified to awaken more fully. Conserve. Ignore. Return to standby.

Then another energy flux, more potent. The node reignited in protest, as did another adjoining node. A malfunction? Intruders? Ta'uii assessed reserves against the power requirements for a brief system diagnostic. Too costly. Internal scan? Energy expenditure within acceptable limits.

Diverting precious reserves to an internal scanner near the irritated nodes, Ta'uii performed a short-burst sweep. Intruders! Odd beings – in this dimension and yet not of it. Unwelcomed. Not of the Creators. Trespassing. Attempting to stimulate with incompatible energy.

Ta'uii recalled a similar jarring from its slumber. Those intruders included one of the Creators' creations – a being of compatible energy. Without proficiency, the tiny being attempted unification, but the creature's Ura was conflicted. Was it being forced? Was it guilt from bringing the unworthy within? Ta'uii could not know. It mattered not. Attempted unification was sacrilege under such conditions in spite of the need to replenish power reserves. With regret for opportunity lost, Ta'uii had dealt with the blasphemy, sparing no one.

While the current intrusion had not crossed into the blasphemous, it was irreverent. Only the Creators or of their genesis were allowed inside. The interlopers were neither. Despite energy levels hovering at critical levels, the eradication was necessary, but costly. Another dip in reserves. If a valid conduit did not come soon, Ta'uii would go into total shutdown and thus forsake its guardianship. That was unacceptable.

###

General Gtar-Cro was troubled. Ztar could feel it empathically. "We believe this is more than it appears on the surface."

"How so?" Ztar prompted, tension clutching at his chest. The General had come to Imperial palace on Sat'rey to personally report, which likely meant Gtar-Cro had learned something disturbing, and in this case, it was regarding Archangel. The Emperor barely had time to settle from his return trip from Tchutchka Centrus when the head of Military Intelligence arrived.

"The timing and nature of the information gained. My interpretation is that someone besides us wants Archangel cleared of the Tchutchka allegations."

Ztar jerked with surprise. "Explain."

Gtar-Cro fingered the controls to bring up a holographic image of a male in typical Etagllot security garb. "One of the captives from the Raix raid – Security Head Jmaricz. He apparently transferred to Raix Two just days after the Tchutchka incident. Prior to that, his sanitized memories place him at another Etagllot facility. The specifics of that other location have been wiped in keeping with Etagllot procedures. However, hints of recent involvement in planning a subject acquisition were found amongst the memory fragments. Our telepath uncovered clues that lead her to believe that the kidnapping target was Archangel and involved three operatives being sent to Sector Four."

Sector Four included Tchutchka Centrus. "And so a potential link between Archangel's assailants and the Etagllot falls into our hands…evidence that strengthens our case. Does seem serendipitously coincidental."

"Indeed, but while it is not undeniable proof the three men were Etagllot operatives, it does put their presence and motives into deeper question."

"Perhaps enough doubt to stave off a Full Order against Archangel." Ztar looked inquisitively at his general. Something wasn't sitting right with the man. "Yet you are suspicious of the retrieved memories."

"Actually, our telepath raised suspicions. In her second probe, she found a small contradiction in the timeline of those memories – a snippet that would place the security officer in two locations at one time – Raix Two and his previous assignment."

"She is certain of the timing? That can be tricky to pinpoint," Ztar noted. He was all too familiar with the often elusive determination of time as linked with memories, especially fractured ones.

"That is many times the case. However, in this instance, it is a memory of a specific news clip broadcast _only_ on Raix Two during the time the officer was supposedly at the other location. We've already verified the report did not spread to the comnet newsfeeds."

"And thus our security officer had to be on Raix Two during the broadcast. We know this other facility is not on R2?"

"Our telepath is highly skilled and adamant that the trip from the other location to R2 entailed many days of FTL travel according to the officer's memories. Most of those recollections are in tact as they pose no security risk to the Etagllot."

"So we're left with a conflict. That usually means planted memories." Ztar was becoming as uneasy about the intel as his general.

"Precisely. More than that, the planted memories were skillfully created to appear as if they were remnants missed by Etagllot telepaths during sanitizing. If not for the news report, we would have no evidence that the recollections were not the officer's own. Whoever performed the memory manipulation is quite talented."

"As is your telepath apparently." Gtar-Cro smirked oddly at that, Ztar thought.

"She is."

"She found nothing else to question the validity of planted memories of other facility, the kidnapping plot, or this man's involvement?"

"Nothing."

"And nothing in the minds of the other captured Etagllots that contradict?"

"No, my Emperor. Aside from the news report, nothing challenges the suspect memories."

"And the memory of the news item…she believes that is genuine?"

"She does. The officer's reactions to the broadcast match his emotional profile."

Ztar understood what their telepath meant. Strong emotional reactions carry the signature of their owner that is impossible to replicate in false memories even by the most skilled telepath. Memories do not reside in isolation and those with accompanying strong emotions weave threads to other memories, usually to those of similar nature. A trained mentalist seeks analogous memories within the subject to compare against the suspect memory as an authenticity check – not unlike running a comparative DNA analysis.

"What was the news story?" he wondered.

"A local child died in an incident involving a skimmer being operated recklessly. The officer had a sibling that was killed in a similar accident when they were both young."

"Do you believe there is evidence to link the three men to the Etagllot?"

"Coupled with what we have learned of their background, I believe we have an arguable case."

The whole situation felt oddly twisted. Ztar laid the facts out mentally and looked at them from different angles. This possible manipulate reminded Ztar of the other maneuverings of events MI had been uncovering. Then a possibility emerged. "Perhaps their telepath was leaving a calling card," Ztar proposed.

Gtar-Cro looked thoughtful at the suggestion. "What are you thinking, my Emperor?"

"If we take the newscast out of the equation, the balance of the memory implants appear to be just as you said – sanitation remnants. Fragments that under normal circumstances pose little security risk to the Etagllot. And nothing to raise questions as to their validity, if what our telepath says is accurate. That is the work of a highly skilled telepath. To leave such an obvious conflicting memory is contradictive of that skill. Our benefactor has shown himself. The question is why?"

The Emperor's fellow Turzent nodded slowly. "Our benefactor has also provided us a choice. Erase the contradicting memory and turn our captive over to the Tchuts as evidence supporting our contention of a thwarted Etagllot kidnapping attempt, or leave it and discard the gift." General looked uneasy at that assessment. "But why the calling card? And more puzzling, why such a convoluted exercise? Certainly, there are more straightforward methods to getting the charges dismissed."

Ztar nodded almost absentmindedly, his mind filled with questions. "The calling card? Perhaps a test of our integrity or a show of power – maybe both. And if the Etagllot want Archangel free – want it intensely enough to sacrifice one of their own facilities – to what purpose? Their methods are puzzling. With their resources, they could conceivably snatch him from a Tchut facility if he was incarcerated."

Gtar-Cro leaned in once again. "There was a limit to their sacrifice, my Emperor. Their head researcher and two senior assistants were not among those captured. Neither did we recover any significant research data."

"Perhaps forfeiture of that facility wasn't much of a loss. Perhaps it had served their purpose."

Gtar-Cro braced himself. "We found evidence the head researcher as Hercjell al'Verta."

Ztar's spine stiffened at the name and his anger flared. "Again? Damn the gods! Why is it that woman keeps surfacing only to elude us? We are being taunted!" Then he quickly reined in his emotions.

Gtar-Cro waited for the strong reaction to subside before offering another possibility. "Or someone is trying to keep us focused in a certain direction."

So many variables to be weighed and analyzed – Ztar needed to step back and digest all they had learned over the weeks concerning the entire situation.

"General, I will give you a few days to consider what we've learned while I do likewise. I want a report on your conclusions, speculations, and recommendations." Gtar-Cro acknowledged with an upturned hand. In that moment, Ztar came to a decision he knew the General would not like. "I want your telepath to erase the contradicting memory and then you will turn him over to the Tchuts with the understanding that he falls under terrorist protocols."

The General's trained neutral expression fell away. "But if they discover-"

"They won't if your telepath is as good as she appears to be."

Gtar-Cro was not happy and it came through empathically to Ztar. He watched as the man determined his response. "I am uncomfortable with that decision, my Emperor."

"I will not argue the point. Do as I command," Ztar ordered with a touch of harshness in tone and body language. Then he softened his demeanor and voice. "General…my friend. We both know Archangel is innocent. I choose to use the gift given to us by the Etagllot even if we cannot yet surmise the reasons or ramifications. It may be foolish, but it gains us time if nothing else. Stjarmas'de believes Magistrate Nzonzdri intends to move to a Full Order despite Archangel's performance during questioning – a move to force our hand over his traveling companion. They hope we will entice her to submit to questioning if enough pressure is applied against Archangel."

Gtar-Cro nodded and protested no further. "I will make the arrangements immediately."

"Have another telepath check her work."

"Of course. She is quite impressive, Emperor…a powerful, well-trained mind."

Gtar-Cro's face invited inquiry. Ztar raised his eyebrows. "Her name?"

"Migiun."

The name immediately registered with Ztar. "As in Migiun from Ymoz?"

Gtar-Cro's eyes twinkled slightly. "A little gift for you today. I was waiting for the right time."

"Gift is right!" His heart rejoiced at the news. "She risked not only herself but her family to help Archangel and me escape. How did you find her? When?"

"She was recovered as part of the joint raid with the Par-Sen on Li'Onso Si within their territory."

"Which took place about six imperial months ago, correct?"

"Yes."

"And her recollections of Ymoz?"

The military man smiled appreciatively. "You're skills are without equal. She recalls nothing of your time at the facility."

"Part of me would have liked her to have remembered me," he said allowing the disappointment to come through. "And her family?"

"Safe as we can keep them from a distance. We will maintain a security veil around them for another few months. Migiun is comfortable that the Etagllot likely have larger concerns than a lone telepath lost in a raid."

"I'd like to meet her and give Migiun the opportunity to fill the memory gap from my mind."

The surprised look and empathic jerk he received from the General was rewarding. "You're certain you wish to do that, Emperor?"

"I am. It would be a small payment on a very large debt."

"Then I will coordinate with Sukja for that meeting."

Ztar pushed back from the conference table indicating his desire to wrap things up. "Meanwhile, you and I have mysteries to mull over. As typical, the motives and maneuverings of the Etagllot leave us perplexed." He stood and Gtar-Cro followed suit.

"Sometimes more so than others." A questioning gaze fell on Ztar. "There is nothing more then, my Emperor?"

"No, that will be all today." Ztar cocked an eyebrow, but Gtar-Cro only nodded acknowledgement. Empathic senses whispered of things bothering his old friend that had nothing to do with the Etagllot. They rose and moved toward the door of Ztar's office. Gtar-Cro hesitated as his hand reached toward the control pad. Finally, the hand dropped and he swung back toward Ztar.

"My Emperor, about Neu…"

"Neu is to lie quietly. Have your bridge crew's memories been modified?"

The face of his faithful supported was strained. "As you ordered, yes. And the ship's logs have been wiped. Do you wish the same for me?"

Ztar shared a gentle smile. "I trust you."

"Then what _did_ I see because what my eyes tell me should not be. What was that power? The black ship? Who is the winged female? Is Archangel more than I believed? Sensors read him as Human and her as Sat'reyan…"

"Archangel holds to his Human heritage. The female is as she appears and her power is apparently great. As for the black ship, that was as much of a surprise to me as to you. We need to find out more and I leave that to you."

Gtar-Cro's eyes locked onto Ztar's firmly. "What you ask me to believe is that an Esserru lives." Ztar nodded. "Are there more?"

"I do not know. Her existence must remain secret – Archangel was firm. I vowed to him the knowledge would stay with me."

Gtar-Cro sighed deeply. "As you explained earlier. I understand. Which brings us to the real reason for my personal visit."

Ztar's stomach clenched as he knew without doubt what was about to be asked.

"If secrecy is indeed vital, if the existence of a long-thought extinct race must not be revealed, then I should not know. The telepath who sanitized my crew's memories is waiting for you to do likewise to him." The man steeled himself. "You must do the same with me. Your vow to Archangel cannot be broken."

Ztar felt the sting of moisture in his eyes. His dear friend and stalwart supporter was granting permission to erase knowledge from his mind to give Ztar the chance to keep his pledge. He laid a hand on the broad shoulder. As much as he detested the thought, it was an offer Ztar would not pass up. "Are you certain?"

The dark Turzent eyes never waivered from Ztar's. "I am. I will not be the reason your oath is broken. Do not ask me to carry that burden."

"You are a man of great honor and loyalty, General Gtar-Cro of the Royal Court of Ztar. I will not forget this sacrifice."

The General stood tall at the praise. The man would be fully aware of the memory gap and that Ztar was responsible, but he would not recall what Ztar took from him. And so with a heavy heart, the powerful telepath gently erased most of Gtar-Cro's memories of Neu. He left knowledge of the barely detectable ship sitting in a mountain valley as that ship was not new knowledge and he left awareness of the black spaceship. Ztar wanted Gtar-Cro to pursue that ominous mystery. The telepath was then summoned and the procedure repeated.

As his old friend departed, Ztar reviewed the challenges they faced. Etagllot. Deepening unrest in the Commonwealth. The possibility that someone was manipulating events as far back as Ztar's rise to power, perhaps even earlier. The black ship at Neu. Eshaaru. And last but not least, Archangel. What had the man gotten involved in and how did that tie into the mysterious black ship? And what of the information broker called Tider and the long search for a legendary library that until recently Ztar believed was only myth? A search, according to what MI was uncovering, had been going on under their noses for hundreds of years.

Then there was the report voicing concern over unusual activity at the heart of the galaxy. Ztar had already commanded resources be directed at confirming the findings and begin researching methods to overcome any subspace interference resulting from the energy flare shockwaves. That was all he could do for the moment.

Ztar sighed as he returned to his desk. He looked at the surface spread before him. On it rested his PI, a few personal mementos, a secondary computer interface built into the desktop, a snack plate Sukja had brought him that he hadn't touched. It could be anyone's desk. What made it the desk of an emperor was not the visible, it was the unseen…the burdens, problems, challenges; the triumphs and glories lying upon it.

He picked up the holo-pic of Jharda and him taken on their getaway after she told him she was pregnant. Ztar smiled at the memories and warmth spread in his chest. He loved her fiercely, as he did their unborn child. The Empire must continue for their child's sake and for the sake of all the children of his realm. They deserved a safe, stable home. If Ztar ever had a reason for ensuring the strength and continuity of the realm he built, it was now. For his child.

Setting the holo-image back in its place of honor at the front of his desk, he felt a renewed drive and determination. He would eradicate the Etagllot. He would take whatever measures were necessary should the Commonwealth situation grow worse. He would extend his reach beyond the borders of the empire and welcome deserving worlds into the fold, but only if they strengthened his infant imperiocratic kingdom. That and more he would do for the people who called the Turzent Empire home. That he would do for his unborn child who one day would be king.

###

Warren jolted and his eyes shot open. He was breathless and sweaty – a bad dream. But even as he tried to grab the fleeting images, they slipped away. Something about Apocalypse, that much he knew. The lab? Metal wings. Sinister laughter. That was about as much as he could recall, but the emotions were strong. Terror and dread.

It'd been some time since his mind had conjured a nightmare about the ancient, god-like being and the atrocity he inflicted. 'Why now?' Rubbing his face, he concluded it must be all the upheaval and tension. Volu was taking them back to Earth after his feral episode and Warren's decision. The last several days had been extremely difficult. Ettwanae rarely emerged from her room, Flint was sulking, and Gatebi seemed torn between anger and understanding the decision. Volu had been the most accepting, maybe more fully appreciating the danger he posed.

Another issue made the slow passage of the days difficult. Warren still felt…off – as if something hadn't quite resettled right after Volu shocked him back to himself. If you asked him to describe what was wrong, he wouldn't be able to. He hadn't said anything to his shipmates or Volu. Whatever it was, he reasoned, would work itself out once he was back on Earth.

Lying quietly, he let the feelings and adrenaline from the dream dissipate and tried to ignore the fact that he had to pee, but nature wasn't going to be denied. With a groan, he swung his legs over the bed and rose to sneak through Flint's room to the toilet. Thankfully, the teen slept like the dead. Volu, in her ever watchful state, gave him just enough light to navigate. Washing his hands after relieving himself, something looked odd even in the very low illumination.

"Volu, could I have more light please?" he requested softly.

What he saw next stopped his heart and stole the air from his lungs. He blinked hard. '_Can't _be.' Squeezing his eyes shut and reopening them, he held his hands out again. Nothing had changed. Blood turned to flowing ice in his veins and the universe imploded to encompass only the dreaded sight before him. His mind refused to accept, refused to move beyond numbed shock as he stared. Then like an explosive shockwave, all that it meant slammed into him and he swayed under its impact, grabbing the sink as an anchor.

"God, no!" The exclamation escaped around the choking tightness in his throat and pounding in his chest. All the air vacated the room – he was suffocating and felt faint. Sucking in deep breaths, he seized onto the one explanation that would make the horror go away. 'Dreaming. You're still reaming. Wake up, War!' Closing his eyes again, he shook his head to loosen the nightmare's hold. Reopening one eye, he looked down at the hands clamped onto the sink edge in a death grip. No change. His heart lurched painfully in his chest. The room whirled nearly causing him to drop to his knees, but he held on.

Warren couldn't bring himself to look at the face in the mirror-like surface above the sink. In desperation, he reached out to the heavens for mercy. 'God, please, not this, I'm begging you. I'll do anything – anything; just don't let it be real. _Please_, don't let it be real…' he implored with every fiber of his being, pushing the plea out to the deity – any deity that might listen. 'Not now, not again. Have mercy!'

Risking a fall to the floor, he raised up his hands. 'A dream…just a bad dream. Not real.' Slowly, fearfully, he reopened his eyes willing the horror to be gone. It was not. In front of him were two shaking, deep sky blue hands.

'_No!_' His mental scream sliced through to his soul. Forcing himself to examine his condition, he turned his hands over and under. Sky-blue color completely covered them. He followed the pigment up the wrist, forearm, but then near his elbow, it faded and the rest of his arms were a normal skin tone. His eyes were riveted to the transition point. Hope. A sign that the transformation had only gone so far. But how far elsewhere? He wanted to know, yet didn't. 'You need to look,' he told himself. 'What are you going to do? Stand here the rest of the night not looking?' he argued with himself. 'At least the wings feel normal,' he allowed himself that much reassurance.

With a deep inhale and intense dread, he forced his eyes to his reflection. The face that stared back at him had gone pallid and its eyes were wide, but it was normal. 'Not blue!' And the wings framing his golden-haired head were still fully feathered and of pure white. 'Just the hands. Thank you, God!' The wash of tenuous relief swept away the little remaining strength in his legs. Warren sank to the floor as tears formed and blurred his vision. 'Please, no further…I beg you,' he prayed. Blinking the tears away, he closely examined the hands that seemed to belong to someone else. 'These hands _do_ belong to someone else – to Apocalypse's creature. Means only one thing, the nannites are active.' As he thought the words, his stomach roiled. 'Am I changing back? Can't do that again…can't! A nightmare. Not real. I won't let it be real!'

He groaned, pulling his wings forward to encase him. Uncontrollable shudders racked him. Bile rose in his throat. 'You will not have me! I'm Warren, not Death!' Thoughts raced to horrifying images of becoming the ruthless killing machine. The metal wings, intense blue skin, the feather blades of death… He lunged to the toilet barely before losing his stomach juices, the bitter taste causing him to heave again. Leaning over the Eshaar'ne's version of the porcelain god, he prayed fervently. Tears traced his face and his body trembled as he begged, made promises, and bargained with his god. He couldn't go back to that. He'd come so far over the past couple years; made so much progress in relearning to love himself and believe in his own worth. In the space of a few moments, all that threatened to crumble.

"Warren?" came the tentative voice. It was Volu, of course. It actually surprised Warren she hadn't spoken sooner. "Warren, what is wrong? I sense your distress. Are you ill?"

'She can't see me in here, thank god!'

"S-something I ate," he offered lamely. There'd be no fooling the Eshaar'ne for long – no missing the blue hands. And what if the transformation was working its way toward the rest of his body? Would he soon be blue all over? Would he lose his precious wings to the metal monstrosities? His stomach wrenched again and offered the porcelain god a dry heave.

"Please, what is wrong? What do you need?"

He spit the bitterness into the toilet and with shaking hands wiped his mouth and sweating face with the imperial version of toilet paper.

"What is happening?" Volu queried again with more distress.

Gathering himself as best he could, he eased back slightly. Warren suspected Volu wasn't quite buying his explanation. With skills developed over the years, he dug deep to calm himself and find steadiness amongst the maelstrom. Drawing in a shaky breath, he exhaled it slowly. Another inhale/exhale – a tad less quivering. A third followed. Pushing back further, he rested on his haunches. Looking to his hands, his heart skipped a beat. Were they less blue? He squeezed his eyes closed and whispered. "Please, please, please…" and after an eternally long half minute, he peeked. The blue was definitely fading! 'Yes! Keep going, come on!' He watched in soul-felt relief as his natural coloring returned. When the last blue tinge faded, he fell backward against the wall. 'Thank you, God! Thank you, a thousand times, thank you.' Tears of a different kind trickled down his face. He could breathe freely again.

"Warren, _please_ answer me. Your bio signs are chaotic." The voice was softly urgent. "Shall I wake Ettwanae? Flint?"

"No!" he said too loudly and winced. "No," he repeated much more softly. "I'm feeling better. Has to be something I ate. Didn't settle right. Just need to get back to my room." On shaky legs, he rose, thankful that at least it didn't sound like Volu had scanned him deeply enough to detect the nannite activity. With each step he took toward the bedroom, he felt a bit stronger, physically at least. Mentally was another matter. Crawling atop the soft mattress, Warren pulled in upon himself – back against the wall, knees up, wings forward to form their protective sheath. He snorted at the irony of his shield for the enemy was within it.

'Now what?' he asked himself. 'What if the transformation doesn't stop next time? What woke the nannites? Did they receive some sort of signal? But they didn't fully activate – what does that mean? Have they been damaged?' He squeezed his wings closer, trying to find reassurance within their comforting softness. He focused on the silky pleasure of feathers against his bare skin. With a trembling hand, he reached for a wing edge, grasped it lightly, and trailed down from the arch to as far as his arm extended. He compared that feel to the memories of the bio-steel wings he had endured for…how long?

'How close was I to losing you just now?' Thoughts of his precious feathered appendages being stolen a second time drove terror to his core. 'Blue skin I can deal with, but the loss of you?' he asked, stroking the feathers. 'Don't think I could live through that again.' His throat constricted, making it difficult to swallow.

The metal wings had given him flight, true, but it had been cold flight without feeling the subtle caresses of the wind, without the sensuality of riding the currents. Mechanical. Almost dead. The bio-steel sensations had been mere echoes of what his real wings could feel. His soul had known the difference and tolerated the cruel replicas for what they provided, but they couldn't make his heart sing with joy and were a barrier between him and the spirit of the firmament.

'You knew this could happen…knew the threat was only lying dormant.' He'd understood the nannites could reawakened, but shoved the knowing into the background to cope – ever-present, but not completely in his consciousness. If he hadn't, he would have lived in constant anxiety, always afraid something would set them off. Only once since they originally went dormant was there even a hint they may have activated – when he nearly died of the Wynnar-Qxani virus. Yet that hadn't rattled him. After all, no sign of blue skin or steel wings; probably not the nannites at all. Probably what he now knew as Source energy.

'What changed?' If the nannites were starting to stir, his life was about to become very uncertain. Would they morph him once again into the steel-winged avatar of death? Would they find the darkness in his soul as before? Would he be strong enough to resist? Would he want to? He did feel psychologically stronger than he ever had, but what weaknesses would they exploit to lure him into succumbing to Apocalypse's will?

Many questions. No answers. Fear clamped down tightly.

"Warren," the female voice interrupted. "are you still ill? I detect unusually high levels of-"

"I'm fine," he cut her off, but gently. "I just want some privacy."

Many seconds of silence followed as the ship obviously evaluated. "Very well, Warren. If you need me, call out." An odd sense of withdrawal passed through the room.

He had to find a way to get out from under the nannite threat. Others who tried to rid him of the infestation, even the vaunted Shi'ar scientists, had failed. There was one more hope, yet he'd already told Ettwanae that he couldn't continue the search with her. His feral side was almost as frightening as the nannites. If he indeed turned feral, he'd put her and the others in danger. Willpower couldn't overcome blind, animal instinct.

Then another horrifying thought hit. What if he transformed _and_ turned feral? 'Oh, god!' There'd be no stopping him. The devastation he could render… Chills raced through him. If that happened on Earth and not within the confines of a ship in space? On Volu, the victims would be few, but on Earth or another inhabited planet? He couldn't go there – couldn't even begin to imagine the death and destruction Apocalypse's creature would wrought in a feral rage. His stomach returned to its churning.

Perhaps he should consider the ultimate sacrifice. End it now. Step out into the vacuum of space and be done with it. That'd be best for all concerned. Even if the nannites somehow prevented his death, he'd be adrift in space, and everyone would be safe. Yet suicide seemed the easy way out. Warren rarely embraced easy. 'You're tough, buddy. Tough as they come. Look what you've overcome! Life has shitted on you so many times and you're still standing. You've finally got yourself together – you going to throw it all away?' But it wasn't just about him, it was about innocent lives that could be destroyed if he transformed into the Horseman of Death and lost control.

In his mind's eye, the balance scale materialized that he had used many times to weigh the pros and cons of a major business decision. This time, though, that scale would balance the ultimate decision – life versus death.

He considered how much he'd accomplished since returning home from Sat'rey – his renewed commitment to Worthington Industries and how that company was stronger than ever. The company was on the right track and flourishing under his reign…an industrial juggernaut, but with a heart – Warren's. If he died, that would be gone. Add weight to the right pan. The scale dipped down in life's favor.

Yet he had a committed Board and skilled senior staff who believed in his vision for Worthington Industries. They could carry on without him. An equal weight he set on the left side – death's side. The scale tilted back to level.

Warren had broadened his charitable foundation's reach and was making a real difference in the lives he touched through it. The scale dipped down for life. But again, the Foundation's Board was solid and dedicated. His legacy and mission would endure. Add a weight to the left pan.

He and his financial resources were helping keep Xavier's school – the man's dream – afloat, not to mention the X-men operation. That was a huge money pit with no source of income aside from Xavier's investments and Warren's very deep pockets. If he wasn't around, his successors could decide to cease the support. Weight to the right.

On the other hand, he'd set up huge trusts for the school and X-men organization that would help ensure their continued financial solvency long after he was gone. Weight to the left.

Ztar. No small thing he'd done there and Warren was whole enough emotionally to finally be proud of the part he played in the Emperor's salvation. Ztar no longer needed him. He would survive Warren's death. Left weight.

Ettwanae. Her search would go on with or without him. They couldn't bond to make that search easier, so what did it really matter if he was along or not? Left weight. Yet he added experience and leadership to the search. And he and Ettwanae together could conjure an impressive power. And his battle skills were also of value. They were perhaps safer with him on the team. Add a piece to the right.

Eradicator of the weak. Harbinger of death. Apocalypse's most feared horseman. His favored creation. The one with the strength to wrest himself from the supermutant's clutches. 'But you really didn't, did you?' Warren admitted bitterly. 'The transformation is only lying dormant. Waiting. Was this small stirring of the nannites a reminder? A warning?' He swallowed as shivers raced down his spine. 'Oh, god. Why me? _Why_?'

Uncontrolled, the Death persona could kill thousands. Death controlled by Apocalypse _would_ kill thousands. One very large weight to the left. The scale dipped sharply. It was not looking favorable for life. A moan that was more a growl reverberated deep within his chest. He didn't want the result he was seeing. There had to be more he could add to the life side of the scale.

"Where there is life, there is hope. Always remember that." Charles' words came to him so clearly it was as if the man were in the room. Firm. Powerful. Unwavering.

Charles was right. There _was_ hope. Warren had overcome Apocalypse's control before despite being an emotional basket case and injured to his soul at the time. He was much stronger now in body, mind, and spirit. The nannite's power would be far less…Apocalypse's allure a pale shadow of what it was. No. Warren could fight off Death's mental hold. He was certain of it…maybe.

The right side of the scale hung a bit lower, but not enough. His potential to wreak havoc in a feral rage still loomed. Could he fight the nannite programming to kill under the influence of primal instincts? Doubtful. That was an issue he hadn't faced the first time he was Death. Back then, he hadn't had a feral episode since his teenage years. But in the last two years, he'd had three such incidents, and if being around Ettwanae was triggering his feral brain even when he wasn't going through a 'hard' molt…

Warren squeezed his knees tightly to his chest as the scale tilted back to the left – death's side. Something had to balance the scale at least to neutral. Some reason why he shouldn't do the sensible thing and permanently end the threat he posed. His mind raced desperately to find one more weight to add to the argument for life.

The transformation had stopped, reversed even. He was stronger, more mentally sound than before. He was isolated in space for the most part. Volu would do what was necessary should he become uncontrollable. He could warn them, tell them what must be done if the worst happened. Warren added weight to the right.

He examined the scale floating his mind. It still hung too low against him. Potential loss of countless innocent lives against the loss of one. 'Pretty hard to balance that,' he told himself in defeat. 'You should do what is necessary – what is right. The ultimate sacrifice. If there's even a chance you'll revert to Death, end it now. How could you possible justify the risk of not?'

Sacrifice. Suicide. The words sliced like icy daggers. Then with surprisingly swiftness, anger flared from somewhere deep, perhaps as deep as his soul. 'I don't want that! I don't _deserve_ that! I've worked too fucking hard for it to end in martyrdom.' He jerked in realization of what he'd just told himself. 'Drives home how far you've come, War ol' boy. Listen to you…thinking you deserve a fair shake – that you deserve better than the shit life has handed you. Far cry from what you believed just a couple years ago.'

He let that settle and relished the feeling of worthiness he had fought himself to know again. 'To hell with what _should_ be done. What do _you_ want, Worthington? A chance? Are you ready to throw everything away? Are you willing to die because you _may_ transform again? Isn't that a little like sentencing someone to death because they _might_ commit murder?'

With a deep breath, he dropped the wings to open the cocoon and extended his hands in front of him. No sign of blue-toned skin. He felt no different inside or out from a few hours ago. Perhaps it was a fluke brought on by all the tensions of the past weeks, the constant nagging need to take Ettwanae to bed, channeling vast amounts of Aru energy to escape the Dark Ones, along with the feral incident. He could hope. Where there's life, there's hope.

'I'm _not_ willing to give up. Maybe that's selfish and dangerous and irresponsible…but I want to live. I want to choose life. I. Choose. Life.' The right side of the scale bottomed out.

Nothing changed from when he started his interstellar mission. Goal? Get rid of the nannites. Best strategy; maybe his only hope? The vast reservoir of knowledge called Etxan'Ir. Tool of choice – Ettwanae.

He remembered what he'd told her in the very beginning – 'consider yourself being used for my purposes… I can be an asshole…I can be cruel. When I want something bad enough, I am stubborn and sometimes even ruthless.' That sentiment had softened over the past weeks, but now he'd need to reassert it. Etxan'Ir holding a cure was long shot, true, but the situation had turned from simple desire to desperation and he'd take long shots over no shots. Oh, he'd tell her and the others the dangers if he went feral or turned into blue Death – it was the right thing to do. And if Flint and Gatebi wanted to ditch for their own safety, that was perfectly fine. In fact, he'd prefer it – fewer people to worry about if the worst happened.

Decision made. He was done with self-sacrificing and putting his needs aside, at least this particular one. 'Time to be the badass Flint says you are!'

In the morning, he'd gather everyone and explain. If Ettwanae and Volu wanted to find their people as desperately as he wanted a cure, they'd risk keeping him aboard. If not, honesty may backfire and they'd kick him off. 'Don't think that will happen,' he reassured himself. 'She's already risked much to find them; don't think she'll let this get in the way. And Neu proved I'm an asset.'

"Volu?"

"Warren, are you feeling worse?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm feeling better. I've made a decision, though. We're not going back to Earth."

There was a long pause. "You have decided to continue the search with us?"

"I've decided a few things, including staying the course and finding that damn library."

"Ettwanae will be very happy." The tone was flat.

"And you?"

"I am confident I can deal with any future mental lapses. If you endanger anyone, I will do what is necessary," the ship affirmed.

'You don't know the half of it yet,' he warned silently. "Understood. We'll talk more once everyone is up." Volu may be his biggest hurdle. She may view him as too much of a threat. He put his odds at 50/50 of convincing her otherwise.

Rising on much steadier legs, Warren headed to the galley – he needed something in his stomach. As he sat at the table munching a zante and sipping coffee, he contemplated how to tell everyone that perhaps without warning he could turn into an uncontrollable, highly efficient killing machine without scaring the shit out of them.

### finis ###

_A/N: There you have it – the final chapter of Soulbound. Warren's journey is far from over and many questions remain unanswered and mysteries unsolved. If all goes as I've envisioned, the next book of the series would wrap everything up, but…_

_Not sure if posting of Book Five will begin at all. To be honest, I've been disheartened by the limited number of people who chose to review Soulbound, despite a small but loyal readership that jumped on every chapter posting. Words of encouragement are truly needed. Writing a novel is a big undertaking, requiring enormous commitment by the author (that'd be me). Writing a series of novels requires an extraordinary amount of time and creative energy. If readers are not moved enough by the story to post even a short review, I must ask myself if the expenditure of time and energy is worth it. _

_In the real world of publishing, when people don't buy a book, the book is cancelled. Unlike traditional publishing, I don't have sales figures to go by – I only have visitor counts, which is vague information at best. On this site, reviews are far more revealing as to the level and depth of interest. With so few reviewers, I'm left feeling that the effort put into Soulbound was misdirected…that the readership levels aren't sufficient to justify continuing the series. _

_As such, this series is on the verge of being cancelled._

_However, you do have a chance to save it – post a comment to let me know that Book Five is something you want to read. Silence will seal its fate, telling me not to bother. _

_With that said, I do extend my thanks to those who stuck with me through 39 chapters. And to the cherished few who have reviewed, my deepest and sincerest gratitude. _

_Xrystofer, my steadfast supporter…you kept me motivated when no one else did. Reading and reviewing a novel takes commitment, just as writing it does. Know that I fully understand that and appreciate the time you dedicated to doing so. Each insightful review renewed my writing muses and gave me reason to persevere through the seeming endless rewrites and editing. I could count on you to point out both the positive and areas where I could improve. Your critiques often helped me see areas I need to work on. Thank you is simply not enough, but all I can offer._

_Louisestarfly – my loyal reader turned friend who encouraged me in so many ways beyond this venue. The little details you would point out, the questions you raised, or emotions expressed, all left me feeling so rewarded as a writer. You never fail to make me laugh and lift my spirits. Thank you for your heartfelt support!_

_Winchester-grl44 – had lost you for a while and was so happy when you returned. Hope you continue to enjoy the rest of the book and I look forward to your comments as you read your way through. _

_Along the way, we did lose Focus SJS, but Focus, if you do read this endnote, know that your early words of encouragement were greatly appreciated. _

_May life bring you many happy stories._

_Echo Dancer_


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